Tonight and most of tomorrow Liam and I will be having all-guy time at the farm. Phoebe is sleeping over at a friend's house. Julie is in the Far North giving a talk at Mohican State Park.
We boys are FREE!
Liam and I have a two-member club, that meets only on weekends like this. We are called The Hotdog Brothers. This started a few years ago, when Phoebe would accompany Julie on weekend trips to wherever. Liam and I, left to our own devices, would cope as best we could, and The Hotdog Brothers were born.
We even have a theme song for the Hotdog Brothers that goes like this:
We are the Hotdog BrothersWe don't always eat hotdogs, but the often comprise two or more of the food groups on our planned menus.
Yes We Are!
We are the Hotdog Brothers
Yes We Are!
Yum! Yum! Yum
Lots of FUN!
Tonight, an otherwise normal Friday in April, we had plans to do EXACTLY what WE wanted to do. With no GIRLS around to say otherwise. We'd eat, spit, pee outside, and tell jokes and scary stories. Our menu would be of our own choosing. This involved chocolate milk, hotdogs roasted on an open fire, baked beans, beer (for some of us), chips, and s'mores (not necessarily in that order).
I started a fire in the fire circle up on the hill east of our house. Liam gathered wood for the fire. We watched it until it was well established.
Then we created some art on the sidewalk in front of the house, just in case some unsuspecting civilians happened upon the scene.
While we were cooking our dinner on the fire, Liam wax philosophical:
"What is it about springtime that makes us SO happy? The sound of the crickets? The sound of the sun rising? The sound of a lawnmower running over a little girl's hair!"
And the sun sets on another Hotdog Brothers extravaganza at Indigo Hill. The problem is we have just 48 hours to clean up the house and grounds before the gals return.