Wack Attack

"It's around 6:30 -6:45 and I left to go to the Wack Attack! (Race at Chilliwack, BC) I'll call you in a bit and let you know what's up.

DAD: I took 5$ from you wallet for bus fare? I'm sorry if this inconveniences you at all and so you hat to go get more money.

There is COFFEE on the Stove! (I made it just for you guys!)

I love you! TAlk to you in a bit.

- Wolf"

I woke to the aroma of espresso. Stovetop. Perfect. Wolf must be up already I thought. But when I walked into the kitchen, there was only the note in his neat blue print on the counter and hot coffee on the stove.

He's fifteen, and racing into adulthood, but gently, kindly--the way I don't quite mind. He never passes an opportunity to kiss a cheek or tell us he loves us. He is sharp with his younger siblings and annoyed with his older brother. But he is our baby/middle child. He was the baby for seven years before his sister oh so rudely bumped him from that spot.

Today, he is racing, or rather riding. Nothing hinges on this ride, no trophies, all glory is from the ride. This involves motorcycle leathers, a full-face helmet and a longboard (think skateboard on steroids).

I checked my facebook this morning to see what's what, and he posted a video of himself... of course... skating our hood. He's pretty good, I'd say, for a non-skater. You can see him and his board, and my baby too, and our whole longboarding saga... if anyone cares too, at http://www.unkle.ca/cgi-bin/view?tmp=0&type=article&offset=4

I'm going to go nuke my coffee and enjoy the peace before the rest of my clan awakes.
Happy 4th of July!