Wilmington Weekend Update #17

After twelve years in the family our cat, Schrödinger, seems to be gone. Some background: I got Schrödinger one day when my girlfriend Margaret suggested we drop by the pound to, “just look at the cats.” I might not have gotten him at all except I’d always wanted to name a cat after the quantum physicist whose classic thought experiment involved a cat in a sealed box which had a 50% chance of being penetrated by an invisible death ray. Until you open the box you have 50% of a live cat, statistically speaking. Upon opening the box, the cat “becomes” 100% alive or dead. I never understood why this was relevant to quantum mechanics, but I knew it would be a good joke. It turned out on our first visit to the vet in Chapel Hill mine was one of nine Schrödingers in that office alone.

Despite Margaret’s assurances Schrodi was a “good cat” he ended up being a nut, ultimately too psychotic to even venture outdoors. But Schrödinger got the last laugh. We returned from Myrtle Beach three weekends ago to find his cat box clean and his food bowl untouched. A thorough search of the house turned up no cat. A search of the neighborhood, enhanced by phone calls and eventually printed fliers, turned up no cat. His status remains, after three weeks, unknown. For now we have 50% of a live cat, a figure I fear is dwindling by the day.

On the other hand we have 100% of another dead hamster. Caramel was well-watered, well-fed, and well-loved. In fact it’s not at all clear what overcame him, except that his demise followed a Wednesday evening when the kids were rough-housing near him while he scurried on the carpet. Thursday morning we were well on our way to an on-time school arrival (a feat we rarely pull off much to the chagrin of the New Hanover County Public Schools) when we heard Abby wail in a way that has grown sadly familiar. She came into my bathroom holding a hamster wheel whose inhabitant was barely moving. While she was at school Caramel, lying on a bed of Charmin Ultra, drew his last breath. We think it may be time for us to give up on small animals for a while. Besides, we hear they’ve posted our pictures in Pet Smart.

Not all the news from the last few weeks has been sad. Sellers turned six Tuesday, November 27th, and he got to pick his dinner of choice (sushi). His mommy made him the cake he requested, chocolate cherry in the shape of Momo, the flying lemur from our favorite cartoon, Avatar. Unfortunately between getting everyone home, doing homework, and eating dinner we got to the cake and presents well after Sellers’s usual bedtime. The evening ended with Sellers crying and screaming that he’d only gotten three presents and Julian had blown out half his candles. It wasn’t really the sixth birthday celebration we’d imagined, but hey, at least we had an excuse to eat sushi.

By Wednesday Sellers had developed a decent enough fever to stay home, except that home that day was Margaret’s office. He was good company for me Thursday while I worked around the house and knocked out a little Christmas shopping. By Friday he was thankfully well enough to return to school. Unfortunately his health suffered a setback again Saturday, keeping him from his first practice and game in the newly formed i9 Basketball League.

Many of you are unaware of my basketball career. Well, not so much a career as an avocation. Okay, not so much an avocation as a flailing around the court screaming like a little girl if the ball came my way. (Fortunately my screams were usually drowned out by the laughter of my opponents.) So I was a little surprised Sellers expressed an interest in learning more about basketball after dribbling and passing a little in the driveway with our friend Josh. He was only mildly opposed to joining a team we found advertised on a flyer at his school, which Margaret and I took for wholehearted enthusiasm. All this was to culminate on Saturday, December 1st. Instead he lay on the couch and watched Bugs Bunny and Michael Jordan in the animated/live action movie Space Jam. Hey, it’s a start!

I worked in the office all morning while Margaret did her best to cart the kids across the back yard to our neighbor Greta Fennel’s blowout third birthday party. But Sellers was too sick even to enjoy the party and retired back to his couch before the pony rides began. I got home just in time to pat out some crab cakes for supper club.

Sunday, thankfully, went much better. Sellers felt good enough for church, and we went out to lunch at Wrightsville Grille to celebrate Julian’s birthday. From there we went to the First Baptist Church Activity Center to pick up our prepaid Christmas tree. It’s not the biggest or the prettiest tree we’ve ever had, but I’m thinking if we can get the kids from Charlie Brown to stand around it and wave their arms it will be beautiful.

Greta’s parents had rented the inflatable slide and bouncer for the whole weekend, and the slide especially was a magnet for every child in the neighborhood. Living closest, our three monopolized it for quite some time. I was dispatched to make sure no necks were broken, but eventually all the other dads wandered over to hang out in the Fennels’ driveway. This is how I ended up trying a beverage known as “Middle Sound Iced Tea,” a mixture of Jim Beam and Sun Drop. I would never disparage our neighbors on Middle Sound Loop Road, but their signature beverage could easily lead a person to take the Nestea Plunge right into the asphalt.

We had a handful of friends over in the evening to help Julian blow out his candles and unwrap a few presents. It was a delightful evening, even if the kids all went to bed too late. Cold Stone Creamery, by the way, makes a beautiful ice cream cake. As for the flavor, well, did I mention it’s a really pretty cake?

This last week passed without much incident, except for Abby having an ear infection. The weekend was exciting enough, with Sellers finally meeting his six foot, eleven inch basketball coach and playing in his first real game. They did well, losing by only 12-0. Apparently you don’t get any points for having a tall coach.

While the rest of the family was negotiating the Noble Middle School gymnasium, I was having brunch at WHQR with the voice of Morning Edition news, Karl Kassell. To be fair, it wasn’t just me and Karl. We were joined by about 50 paying guests and several staff members. But I felt like Karl was talking right to me, from the stage where he answered questions and participated in a local version of his game show, Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me. Actually we did get several minutes to talk, during which Karl (I call him that) gave me valuable advice: “Stand a little farther back when you’ve just eaten onions.” Okay, that was just a joke. It was garlic.

The rest of Saturday was relaxed. We cleaned our minivans, which had become mobile EPA Superfund sites. We drank egg nog and decorated our Christmas tree.

Sunday morning I kept my promise to make the kids Mickey Mouse waffles (thanks, Aunt Christopher!).

Then it was church and playing with the neighbor kids in the Fennels’ trampoline until it was time for our annual Cape Fear Pediatrics Christmas party. We had amazing turnout, and also we passed out everyone’s bonus checks. It’s nice to see an office staff so enthusiastic about being together after hours.

The next week is not all that eventful. So far we just have Julian’s class Christmas show on Thursday. But if a cat can disappear into thin air, anything can happen.

David