So where was I?
The trip to Elyria was good and blessedly uneventful. The plan was that Donny and I would get there on Thursday, Mike would join us on Saturday and we'd leave on Sunday. There were a few things I wanted to do with the boy back in the ol' Home Town, one of which was to take him to the town square to play in this new kiddie fountain my Mom had told me about.
Well, I'm not exactly sad to say that there was no kiddie fountain: the town square is realllllly small. It already feels overcrowded with the gazebo they put in a while back and all the various war memorials. That's not really a complaint per se: I'm just glad they did'nt try to fit in squirty kid fountain as well. The old fountain was perfectly nice and we walked around that few times.There was a wedding going on in the gazebo and I was able to catch Donovan before he ran over to join the wedding party midceremony
Donny also had a grand time running across the little bricked in area in front of the Civil War Memorial:
I've always had a theory that the same Civil War Memorial Salesman visited every small town in Ohio and sold them the same damn monument with just the slightest variations. Not that you can really see what I'm talking about from the above action shot.
So we played downtown for awhile, stopped for a very healthy lunch at Burger King and walked home. Typical Elyria day.
What was not typical was just how different Donovan was while we were in Ohio. Plunk him down in Elyria and he starts TALKING. Not big sentence or anything but he basically put on a floor show for my Mom, my sister and I. He and my Mom were playing with these fabric coasters, putting them on their heads and then throwing them. Donovan put the coaster on his head, pull the elastic from his adjustable pants like it was a pair of suspenders and then yell, "HellOOOOOOOO!" He was yelling so loudly that he was standing on tiptoe. So "hello" and "bye" (with wave), and my sister swears he said, "I did it!" Also, there was the eating. Frequent visitors to this blog will know that the kid is on doctor's orders to gain weight. Which means, as far as I'm concerned, whatever he'll eat he's allowed to eat. Look at Mr. Livin' Large at Gramma's house;
I think it may have been the prolonged exposure to the powerful, unfiltered waved of Grandma love that my Mom poured over him the whole time we were there. I'm the kid's Mom and I love him to death but I do think there's something different in the way Donny's grandparents love him. Its not better or worse but it is a powerful force. It would also explain why, when Donovan sees photos of my Mom, he kisses them. Pretty impressive seeing as how he only sees her a couple of times a year.
ANYhow, on Friday we walked over to see the Aunts. Every visit to the Aunts is conducted in "The Good Room." I was unable to take a photo featuring the Paint By Number reproductions of Millais' Gleaners but do note the print of "Blue Boy" on the wall behind the chair Donny's sitting in.
Before I leave the subject of Elyria, I just want to mention how great my old house is for kids. The front porch is just Americanarific, to coin a phrase. It's pretty empty these days but growing up there was usually a stripey rug put down every summer, a glider with a plasticy padded back and seat and, of course, The Swing:
The Swing was my Dad's pride and joy. He came up with the idea of hanging it from the ceiling with truck springs so not only could you swing, you could bounce. Dad used to sit out there all the time in his tshirt, shorts, white socks and sandals. It was nice to take his namesake out there and let him have his time ruling the roost.
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