June 9, 1982

June 9, 1982

The weeds are green and abundant, the sidewalk is littered with skateboards, bicycles, and popsicle sticks, and the air is filled with the sound of breaking windows.
It’s summertime at the Stucky house.
In the two weeks since teachers handed out grade cards and sent their charges home to harass their parents, three windows have been shattered. The hasty explanations rendered have gone from the slightly believable (I was just throwing the ball against the side of the house and it slipped.) to the unbelievable (I don’t know who broke it, but I’m sure it wasn’t me.) to the incredible (I don’t know how, it just broke.).
It’s summertime at the Stucky house.
The kitchen floor is sticky with kool-aid dropped from paper cups. The chain on every bike has come off at least once. The short people have begun discarding summer toys. The latch on the front door has been broken off.
It’s summertime at the Stucky house.
We have already gone through twenty books from the Pretty Prairie library—everything from “Blaze and the Indian Cave” (“It was good, Blaze and his owner rode around with their cowboy friend Jim and he asks if he can camp out in an Indian cave and they like the…”) to “How Doofus the Dragon lost His Head” (“Pretty good. It was sorta funny, but he really didn’t lose his head, he fell into a field and then they hid him in a hay stack and…”). We have made feeble attempts at banjo lessons (“My fingers don’t stretch that far.”), guitar lessons (It hurts my fingers.”), and tennis lessons (“This racquet is too heavy.”). Baseball practice has been missed three times. We have already heard “There’s nothing to do around here.”
It’s summertime at the Stucky house.
A mosquito bite caused Carly’s right eye to swell shut. A damaged ankle made it difficult for Emily to walk. Aaron fell off his bike and wounded his knee. Allison has a cut on her head. The dog has been in heat, attracting every male canine within a two county radius. Four Mississippi kites, a prairie falcon, two cardinals, three turkey vultures, and “something weird” have been spotted in the evening sky.
It’s summertime at the Stucky house.
A host of hamburgers and two chickens have already been burned on the barbecue. Each of the short people has already said numerous times, “Tell me, dad, why do hamburgers and chicken legs end up looking the same when you barbecue them?” More than a dozen glasses of iced tea have been spilled at the supper table, two popsicles have melted on the front porch, three lady bugs have been loosed in the living room, two tennis balls have been misplaced, a can of “Off” has been depleted, two baseball mitts have been left out in the rain, and a wheel has fallen off the lawnmower.
This is only the first week in June. The air conditioner has not been turned on yet. The rodeo is still a month away. And already the first day of school is poised on the distant horizon like a brimming pot of gold….~T.Stucky