En Fuego

I was supposed to start Saturday by mowing my mom’s yard. I slept in. A little hungover from celebrating my father’s birthday the night before. The memories. It happens once a year. I don’t usually drink Scorch anymore, but I had to indulge myself for the sake of his birthday.

Well, it rained. Again. Of course it fucking did. What in the hell? We are having an unusually wet start to summer. Thank you, El Niño.

That pushed back mowing both her yard and mine..

So I ran off to the grocery store to find lunch and get some gas. Gas prices still just piss me off. Almost fifty bucks to fill up my tank. All because some orange fat man wanted a fucking war.

For lunch, it was stuffed jalapeños and some hot dogs. Eventually, Teegan ran off to a movie, so it was just Yvette and me. She needed to get some groceries, so I returned to the store with her, and we did some shopping together.

Eventually, the grass dried out enough for me to do my mother’s yard. I made the trip to her house and quickly mowed her lawn. It’s a small yard, but it’s on an incline, so it’s a bit of a bitch. Also, she bags the grass. I hate bagging. It destroys the rhythm I find while mowing.

Teegan was at a movie, Lola was at a concert, and Alaya was with her grandmother, so that night I did some more grilling while Yvette made the rice. She made her red rice, which is so damn good. She makes this sauce that consists of soy sauce, vinegar, and white and green onions. I could honestly drink it. I made some Caribbean jerk shrimp. If I ever want to make my wife happy by cooking something, shrimp is pretty much a sure thing—maybe a little safe, ha-ha.

It was a nice, quiet night together. Rare moments these days—and cherished.

Sunday was a lazy morning for all of us. With the baby gone, I guess we all took advantage of the quiet. I should have gotten up and mowed my own yard, but that didn’t happen. I really didn’t feel like being outside working. If my yard were a quick and easy mow, maybe—but my yard takes well over an hour just to do the front.

Eventually, I made a trip to the store and made lunch. Lots of groceries and grilling on the weekend. I had a hankering for some burgers. Just a plain old tasty burger—not too fancy. They turned out really great. I do love my pickled onions.

The day went by way too damn fast. Before I knew it, the evening was upon us. I started watching The Boys—the latest season of a show I had been watching since 2019. Such a crazy show, and it’s hard to believe it aired so long ago. Seriously, a lot has changed since that first episode. A LOT. Covid, a divorce, a brain bleed, and a new family. Funny how a television show can make you realize how much time has passed.

Monday was shit. It was hot and long, and not much was going on. I didn’t get much sleep the night before, so I was dragging ass. That was my own damn fault. I stayed up watching The Boys. I should have called it a night after the first episode.

Tuesday, things sped up a little. Troy was out of town for three weeks, so Seth and I discussed how we wanted to proceed. It was decided that we would just bounce back and forth between on-campus and off-campus work—with both of us performing office duties. That way, when Troy returns, the rotation will be right where it would have been—as if he had never left.

It was a humid mess all day long. You could feel it. Walking back and forth across the lot from my car, it felt like I was swimming through the air. Absolutely horrible.

We had a chance for some showers, which produced a few very heavy afternoon thunderheads. My office was rumbling with thunder. It made for a nice way to wrap up the day. Usually, the rain doesn’t start falling until right at five, but this time it miraculously stopped before we had to depart.

Amazingly, Wednesday was beautiful. It was overcast and never got too damn hot for this time of year. In the morning, it was downright beautiful. Which was great, because it was my mother’s birthday. I wanted her to have a beautiful day. She deserved it.

That night, Yvette and I took her out for dinner. We went to a place called Armenta’s, a damn fine place to get some Mexican food. Truly one of my favorites in town, yet it had been probably close to two years since I had last had a meal from them. I’m not sure what the reason for that was. Maybe it’s because they can get damned packed. Whatever the reason, we had ourselves a good time.

Yvette and I actually had one of our first dates at Armenta’s. We split some nachos and had a beer. It was way back in 2022. Good memories.

Then Friday was my damn birthday. I turned forty-five. I really don’t care much for birthday celebrations, but I ended up having a pretty good day.

The weather was just perfect. I couldn’t have asked for a nicer day in June. It should have been hot as hell, but instead it stayed overcast and hung around in the eighties all day. A rare gift this time of year. I’ll take it.

I don’t usually go to work on my birthday, but I decided, fuck it. Might as well. Throughout the day, people stopped by the office to wish me a happy birthday, and my phone kept buzzing with texts from family and friends. It was nice. It reminded me that there are a lot of good people in my life.

Forty-five is a strange age. I don’t feel old. Hell, in my head I’m still somewhere in my thirties. But every now and then something reminds you that time keeps moving whether you pay attention to it or not. Looking back at everything that has happened over the last few years, it’s hard to believe how quickly they went by.

That night, my mom took Yvette and me out for dinner. We went to a place I used to frequent on special occasions with my dearly departed grandparents—Lowake Steak House.

The last time I ate there was after my grandmother’s funeral. Thirteen years ago, I think. The old location has since been bulldozed to the ground, so this was my first visit to the new one. It’s about a twenty-minute drive outside of town.

I had myself two goblets of beer and one of the best steaks I’ve had in a long time. Oh yeah, and a salad bar and onion rings. Hard to beat that.

It was the perfect end to a great birthday. Earlier, I said I don’t care much for celebrations, and that’s mostly true. But sitting there with my wife and my mom, eating a good meal at a place that brought back so many memories, I couldn’t think of a better way to wrap up turning forty-five.

I was happy when the curtain finally closed on the day.