Daylight savings time and the extra hour of sun turned this past Sunday into a surreal, extended version of a typical day off. Not only were we left with a full 60 minutes more of sunlight than usual, but the temperature here in Los Angeles pushed 90 degrees. At every point in the day, everything seemed a bit off, but somehow better, as there was more sunlight, a balmy heat, the subtext of another 60 minutes in the pocket just in case.
In that spirit, with the kids playing, and the wife out, I tracked down the video of a song I’d heard on the radio a few weeks back. As it came on the computer, the kids walked up and, lucky for me, the video was done in a sort of “Dick and Jane” naive riff on the video format. The song was “Young Folks,” by Peter Bjorn and John, a Swedish band. The song has a sort of a catchy but melancholic, whistled hook. And the kids were hooked, too.
Fast forward 7 hours to sunset. We made a drink out of farmer’s market ingredients: fresh mint and quartered mexican limes muddled in a glass, soda water, and tonic, on ice. A shot of gin on top for the grownups.
I fired up the grill. We had TJ’s chicken sausages, broccolini steamed in the pan then browned on the grill, plus grill-toasted baguette. As it cooked I put it in a stainless bowl and threw a lid on top. Bowl in a Dinner, I told five year old Vi. She loved it and took it to the table.
We feasted. As we cleared our plates, Vi started whistling the hook to Young Folks. She and Desmond asked to hear/watch it. We said: just once. And played it for them. They both said: again. We played it again. And then it was off to baths and the end of the longest day since last summer.
And that was our Sunday Family meal.
We didn’t plan it that way. We’ve never had one quite like that and might not again. It happens in a multitude of ways. It will happen a multitude of ways yet again. How does it happen for you?