our father's day went like this

Because I was too disorganized to make a Father's Day brunch reservation, I suggested we try out the Hot Cake House down the road from us, a diner-like joint open 24 hours. The place was crazy: a blue-collar family hangout where people from all walks of life queue to order gynormous heaps of grub from ex-cons greasing the greasiest of grills. I had never seen such mounds of food before - one serving of biscuits and gravy could have probably fed half of a refugee camp.

We had ourselves a merry breakfast. Jonah went wacko on the pancake and sausage. Tim was in Dad Heaven. The place was fun for people watching. While taking in the sites and zeroing in on a man filling up his coffee cup at the self-serve station, Jonah remarked: "That man has funny hair," prompting me to respond: "Those are called dread locks, Jonah." You live and you learn.

The place was definitely a breath of fresh air for Tim who is sick of being surrounded by hipsters.

Alas, the restaurant adventure ended with Jonah kicking me repeatedly in the booth, followed by me whisking him outside and Jonah screaming his head off. A Father's Day off to a fabulous start, eh?

After about ten minutes, Jonah calmed down at home and we had a nice rest of the day. The highlight of the day was a little girl --only about a year older than Jonah-- who just happened to be visiting her uncle, our neighbor next door. The girl played with Jonah most of the afternoon. They were both in heaven, running back and forth between our backyards and houses. Jonah asked the girl to hold his hand, which she did. He gave her a flower, which she refused. He hugged her, which she didn't know how to take. But they had such a good time that she cried when it was time to go home.

Tim and I were both thinking about Amalia and feeling melancholy throughout the day. We both think of her constantly, though we don't talk about it much. But today she was really missed.