Glad you had helpers, and well done for persuading kids out of a life of crotch-punching.
I try to use my powers for good!
Rob's father sounds fun.
I liked him. Because I'd never seen a picture of him, and Rob couldn't tell me what kind of car he was driving these days, there was a ludicrous moment at the Braintree station when we stared at each other through the windshield, trying to determine without asking whether each was the person the other had come to meet: and then I thought to get Rob, who came over from the other drop-off lane and made a positive identification.
I always like looking for the faces of people I know in their families, so before this meeting I could have told you that Rob gets the quick flyaway cat-rake of his brows from his mother, but I didn't know that the way he uses them for emphasis in a conversation is at least partly inherited from his father; on the other hand, their high shallow cheekbones are the same. A lot of similar expressions, some vocal inflections even. (They do plaintive innocent who, me? cat the same way.) He was a very good storyteller, in one of those low-key, mildly spoken ways. I'm sorry I missed the period in his life when he did regular clowning, but you can still see it in the faces he pulls for his grandkids. People are always more than combinations of their parents (thank God, sometimes), but I hope he can see what Rob took from him and the life he's made of it. We invited them to The Big Broadcast of 1962 in December.
(I had more trouble reading his wife, but Rob assures me that what I was getting was deadpan cordial, not hostile, so I'll take it. She talked to me while grandchild-wrangling, which I did think was a good sign.)
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I try to use my powers for good!
Rob's father sounds fun.
I liked him. Because I'd never seen a picture of him, and Rob couldn't tell me what kind of car he was driving these days, there was a ludicrous moment at the Braintree station when we stared at each other through the windshield, trying to determine without asking whether each was the person the other had come to meet: and then I thought to get Rob, who came over from the other drop-off lane and made a positive identification.
I always like looking for the faces of people I know in their families, so before this meeting I could have told you that Rob gets the quick flyaway cat-rake of his brows from his mother, but I didn't know that the way he uses them for emphasis in a conversation is at least partly inherited from his father; on the other hand, their high shallow cheekbones are the same. A lot of similar expressions, some vocal inflections even. (They do plaintive innocent who, me? cat the same way.) He was a very good storyteller, in one of those low-key, mildly spoken ways. I'm sorry I missed the period in his life when he did regular clowning, but you can still see it in the faces he pulls for his grandkids. People are always more than combinations of their parents (thank God, sometimes), but I hope he can see what Rob took from him and the life he's made of it. We invited them to The Big Broadcast of 1962 in December.
(I had more trouble reading his wife, but Rob assures me that what I was getting was deadpan cordial, not hostile, so I'll take it. She talked to me while grandchild-wrangling, which I did think was a good sign.)