Ah, yes, I dozed off during a History Channel show about Alaska, having set my alarm for 12:30 am. I awoke to the sound of my cell phone doing its song and vibrating like crazy on a wooden table. It was the Der Bingle contingent, calling to make sure I was up to go get the “person who went to Cedar Point” at 6 am and was scheduled to be in the school bus lot at 1:15 am.

She was a ball of tiredness, and as she slumped on the passenger seat, I was overcome by orneriness and said, “Summer, you’ve been dreaming of your trip to Cedar Point; time to get up and actually go.”

“Ohhhhhh, don’t do that to me.”

Sometimes what is sauce for the old stringy hen is sauce for the chick.

In the midst of staccato reports of her trip – the rides, the heat, her feet, the cost of drinks – I told her, “You know, your grandpa called to make certain we were awake to go get you on time.” And she gave me that “Of course” look back. She takes his concern for her for granted. That’s fine.

Here’s a vignette from a colder day:

Tree cohorts

Girl cohort

Back to the barn

Steak and Shake afterwards