Homecoming

Charles Finney High put much more emphasis on the Friday football game/bonfire/movie night than on the two soccer matches on Saturday during Homecoming Weekend. Still, there were a lot of people milling about despite the pouring down rain. Corn grilling made a smoke smudge of the downfield sidelines, and parents served up steaming plates of pulled pork, baked potatoes, and cole slaw for a measly $5.

Drew had chosen to go to a night of laser tag in Syracuse on Friday, and had returned from his fun filled night just in time to get to the soccer field. I watched him across the field by the players bench, huddled down in the pouring rain, trying to stay awake after being up so many hours. His support for the team was honorable, since he only played for about three seconds in the final minutes of the game. They lost 1 to nothing. The boys soccer team had given the girls soccer team roses at the end of their game. The girls soccer team gave the boys soccer team plates of homemade cookies and brownies. Nice tradition!

He walked stiffly to the car and climbed in, after tossing his gear in the trunk. We had planned to get him a haircut right after the game, but I thought he would be too tired. "I'm fine," he insisted. "I once stayed up for three days straight. Really, I'm not tired at all." I turned the heat on to ward off any chills. His uniform was soaked (but not muddy!). He chatted about the laser tag event and how he won enough points to earn a pack of swedish fish. His voice has dropped another six pitches.

After briefly stopping home long enough for him to change out of his soccer duds, we made it to the barber's with twenty minutes to spare before closing. I like this little Italian barber shop. Something about the camraderie of the gentlemen who work there is appealing. They were giving a young boy his first haircut - fussing to get it just right as Mom took pictures, entertaining the little man to stop his crying and protesting. It was an important milestone, and they were making the most of it for the parents' benefit.

It was extremely touching, and the heavy Italian accents only added to the charm. Drew climbed into a chair. "How much off?" Drew said not too short, I say short. The barber winks at me, and trims the back and sides short, leaves the top longer. We are both happy.

Back home, I start dinner - scalloped potatoes, warm applesauce, and asparagus - while Drew goes down the hall to shower. I peel and slice and season, then pop the casserole into the oven. I listen for the shower, but it is quiet. "Drew," I call. "Better get going. I want to do laundry before it gets too late. Drew?"

I wander down the hall and peek in his room. He is sprawled out on his bed, still dressed, snoring away. I smile and turn off his light. Another day. Another time. Right now, he is home and all is well.