’Tis been another pretty good day for Mr Max. It day didn’t treat Mama and me as well as it did Max.
While I was rolling our trash can to the curb this morning, I noticed that the dirt under our driveway where it crosses the creek had partially washed out, exposing several utility lines. Our driveway is eight or nine feet wide and up to two feet of the underlying dirt on one side has washed away, leaving our driveway dangerous. Our van weighs 4508 pounds empty and dry, so I was afraid to use our driveway over the washed-out area. I did, though. I kept to the other side and kept my fingers crossed and cheeks clinched. Max was having his own anxiety about the situation, and once we crossed the area without incident, he told me he didn’t want to go back home because he didn’t “like homes.”
Who’s the man to call in a situation like this? Why, Grandpa, of course. But his busy butt is in Nashville, Georgia, and he was pouring concrete at his home down there. He phoned our friend and neighbor Greg, who knows about soil, excavation, and water runoff. Greg’s diagnosis is that we have ourselves a mess. Greg phoned a buddy he knows who could fix the problem and asked his buddy to come look at our driveway. His buddy concluded that we have ourselves a mess and said he’d come back tomorrow with a flashlight and tools to determine what it’ll take to fix our driveway.
Max and I went to a new indoor playground at the Mall of Georgia called Everland. It’s a lot like Monkey Joe’s and Catch Air. Max had big fun playing with a boy slightly his senior who was dressed in an Iron Man costume. We stayed until 12:45 pm and then went to Granny’s. Max was so thirsty when we arrived at Granny’s and drink a couple of juice boxes and a couple of cups of water. We stayed with Granny until about 4:30 pm. Max was anxious about coming home and traversing our inadequately supported driveway. I stopped in our cul-de-sac and walked down to the washed-out area to see if any more dirt had washed away. It looked like no further washing out had occurred, so I broke off a branch or two to make it easier to cling to the far side of our driveway. We made it. Mama didn’t try it. She left her car parked in the cul-de-sac.
I don’t know if Max and I will try it again tomorrow. Maybe we’d be pushing our luck. Besides, I think I have a minor cold. Of course, being cooped up with a hyperactive 4.75-year-old boy might motivate me to test our luck.
But Max is a smart one. I have to give him that. This morning he asked me about how tall Iron Man is. I told Max my best guess would be around seven feet. He said, “Just like my kite, right.” Gee, we haven’t played with his kite in about a month, but it is seven feet tall. This little boy has a great memory.
This evening the little fellow begged Mama to play a game with him. It wasn’t a game on his iPad. It’s sort of a board game. Max told Mama, “I wish we could win together.” He and I often “win together” while playing games on his iPad. We don’t opt for two-player mode, yet we still take turns in his nearly 400 games. When we win he often exclaims, “We won!”
In the larger scheme that is Max’s life, Mama and I will use every resource available to us to make certain we all win together.
This is Jaddie signing out for Team Max.