Loran celebrated, as he calculated, 8.3% more birthday because on that day, he flew to Southern California for work so gained some extra birthday with the switch to Pacific Time. Since I was sick and he was traveling, we waited to celebrate his birthday Friday evening when he was home.
He was originally supposed to take the redeye home as Thursday became Friday with a layover in Seattle, arriving in Minneapolis around 5:30 am. Not fun. However, Thursday evening as we were talking before bed, he called me from the airport (I could even hear the airport noises behind him) and I, of course, assumed it was the Los Angeles International Airport where he was supposed to be. Our conversation was close to wrapping up at 10pm and I was going to head to bed. As we were talking, I was standing near the front door putting my wallet in my purse when I thought I saw a face outside the door to the porch. I thought/hoped it was my own reflection, so I tried to replicate it to put my mind at ease and took a few steps back to where I’d been standing and then walked by the door again thinking I’d see my own reflection in the porch door’s window. My heart nearly jumped out of my body when the door started to OPEN! I said a quick prayer that it was our rent check being dropped off or my aunt or uncle from across the street. However, it was better, it was Loran! He was able to catch an earlier, direct flight and was home! The airport noise was from MSP – not LAX!
The girls were so excited to celebrate Loran’s birthday. It helps that they were still riding the high from their own birthday party the weekend prior. They worked together to make him a card. Lillian did most of the work, dictating what I draw, and where on the card and then coloring it. Ella added some of her own flair so she could get her named signed on it. They both loved decorating the gift with their dotters and had been practicing singing “Happy Birthday” for days weeks months.
Lillian picked out the pink bowling set for Daddy’s gift. I gave him some Dante books he’d had his eye on which weren’t quite as thrilling to the girls. Our party was now a bowling party!
After dessert, came the big bowling tournament. Such excitement. Turns out, the girls don’t care how the pins are set up. Don’t care who rolls the ball. The only thing that matters is the CRASH at the end. The ball doesn’t even have to touch the pins, most times, the ball was rolled and the roller ran ahead of it in order to knock the pins down before the ball got there. Or, the “helper” standing near the pins would dive to knock over the pins.
The bowling party was a blast. There was so much laughter from everyone, big smiles and lots of fierce competition to knock the pins down (any way possible). We joked that we didn’t even need bumpers, even if our ball went wayward across the house, the crew always made sure we got strikes. That was a nice bonus, as bowling in an old house means you have to really take in account the slope of the floor in order to get your ball remotely close to the pins.
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