Recovery Road Day

Cake Cleaved!

A late post today for reasons that will become abundantly clear upon further reading.  Yesterday dawned way too early for the participants of the birthday pub crawl but the sun showed little compassion and rose anyways.  We had a full house of semi-conscious survivors as son, daughter, and Wing Man answered the morning wakeup call.  Buddy was pleased to have his favorite human, my son, tormenting him.

Bonecrusher Drawn in Anger Again
It Cannot Be Re-Sheathed Until it has Tasted Frosting

Another cake fell victim to Bonecrusher while my wife nervously monitored my backswing.  We all serenaded my most excellent and once again elder sister on her birthday.  She really is the rock of stability in my life, totally incapable of disciplining any of her many animal pets but channeling a lioness if anybody she ever cares about is threatened.  My brother in law did right by this fine lady by squiring her around the wilds of eastern Massachusetts.

Happy Birthday to One of the Finest People Currently Drawing Breath

My son and his battered car had to depart shortly into the Red Zone but not before the aforementioned cake and a fantastic lunch as my wife was not losing an opportunity to play “Mom” before he escaped.  We timed out own escape to insure we were safely into Brooklyn by the time of the Patriots key game against the Colts.  My excellent boss gave me the day off today so we could spend the night in NYC after our trek.

Son and Buddy in Mid-Tussle

Before we left though my daughter and Wing Man had some important work to do in the basement.  The highlight of the Pub Crawl occurred at Scores – and I’m not talking about the epic assault on the beer tower – but that is where they received word that they were approved for the apartment they applied for in California.  This was the last piece of the pie for their impending move and gave us yet another reason to celebrate – an opportunity we did not forego.

Daughter in Mom Supplied Boots Basement Sorting

We had a stack of boxes in the basement we stored for them, including some wedding presents.  Since they were re-locating to the wrong coast they had to decide what they were going to take with them.  It was kind of bittersweet seeing my daughter sort through the “treasures” of her childhood, deciding which she was going to keep and which to jettison in the interest of limited space.  It’s something she’d done numerous times growing up but it was sad nonetheless.  She was a lot more pragmatic than her hung-over father.  We loaded up the boxes that did make the cut for the trip to New York City, no train this time.

The Pod Shaped Stack in Brooklyn

Wing Man was an excellent co-pilot and my daughter manned the police spotting application (while she was awake) and Connecticut did not stand a chance to confound us.  Wing Man pointed out a more direct route through Queens to their Bushwick neighborhood that bypassed all the silliness I usually endure on my trips to their place.  I love Flushing Avenue.  We were safely set up for the big game in plenty of time although the two resident cats were not pleased to be sharing their living space with people who smelled entirely too much of a certain black Labrador retriever.  The apartment was in full packing mode as my daughter and Wing Man’s possessions were transitioning into a pod sized stack in the corner.

One of the Disapproving Cats

The game was everything we hoped it would be and more as the Patriots took the Colts to the whipping shed and dominated them.  We even improbably won our fantasy football game against the league juggernaut, Keene Friend, as Falkor never took flight.  The Patriots outmuscled and out hit the dancing queens from Indianapolis all night long.  It was a long day, especially considering the Saturday activity levels, but the sublimity continued, just outsourced to a small, soon to vacated Brooklyn apartment.

The Colts Saw Entirely Too Many Shades of this Gray