My red truck (proudly named Darcy) zooms down Harvey Mitchell parkway. You'd know it was me by the bumper stickers and the stuffed minion in supine position on the dash. I roll my right window down to the "sweet spot" where the wind rattling ceases and I can finally hear the music. My heart swells in excitement like the puffy white clouds on the horizon.
Ty and Devontae race out to the car before I can even park and clamor in. Their child-like enthusiasm is a hug to my soul. After buying picture frames, a bag of airheads and some Reese's cups at Walmart, we sail down the road like greedy pirates eager for adventure. We park our frigate on the side of the road and gallivant to a picnic table at Oaks Park. We take the glass out of their frames, drizzle alcohol ink on the clear naked canvas, and drench it in rubbing alcohol before setting it on fire. Their eyes light up in enraptured fascination. The fire licks at the colorful ink, and once extinguished, transforms the glass into a multicolored masterpiece. Ty and Dev had decorated each glass rectangle in extreme detail. They drew ornate sea shells, smiling faces with three rows of teeth, and autographed their names in colored ink. Ty was more frugal with the ink, creating thin designs that captured her personality: understated but bold. Devontae was more lavish--his were drenched in color and intensity. He even colored his fingertips so he could finger-paint the picture frames. I wanted to tell them that the design didn't matter, that the rubbing alcohol muddles the design, but then that would ruin half of the fun. Reminds me of our feeble attempts at preparation and planning and how each is extinguished for something more beautiful than imagined. I am thankful for a God that extinguishes my simple-minded plans. After our time spent at the park, the general consensus for dinner was Golden Corral. We had a sumptuous meal: pizza, mashed potatoes, yeast rolls, fried fish and chicken, salad with a plethora of dressings. Each of the food groups had a different banner, like "Lighthouse Bay," or "The Greenhouse," to entice us for seconds. (Don't worry, we all did. We probably cycled through ten of those plastic plates within 30 minutes.) With me and the kids alone, they are both fairly quiet. I think we still need to warm up to each other. But after a full day of playing and painting, they both were content to eat the meal in peace and quiet (with the occasional sibling jab). A people-watcher by nature, I was so pleased to see so many different people. There was a little girl with floral print pants and a white collared shirt enamored with the chocolate fountain. An elderly man wearing suspenders went back for seconds at "The Piazza." A mom and her teenaged son sat next to us, chatting in hushed tones over a slice of apple pie. A family of three spoke in Chinese as they walked by our table, their little boy the center of attention. Our waitress named Coco cleared tables and took Devontae's requests for more Dr. Pepper. Even my little friends with me were fun to watch. While Ty stuck to sugar cookies, Devontae ate pink cotton candy and brownies. Ty ate broccoli with hollandaise sauce (her favorite), while Devontae brought back 2 baked potatoes loaded with cheese. And here I am, soaking it all up with two sweethearts eating marshmallows dripping in chocolate sauce. People-watching is an absolute joy, especially in a restaurant. We are all sojourners at a watering hole, seeking nourishment before setting off for home. I probably would've never set glass on fire in a park or gone into Golden Corral if it weren't for my two friends. And those are gifts from the Father Himself--treasures He has given me to steward. I am so thankful. Quote of the day: "Drink less so you can eat more." - Ty (Also, a big thank-you to Bailey. You helped me gather the supplies and concoct this plan without recompense. You have a servant's heart that reminds me of Dorcas. I am grateful for you.)
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