“What’s Going On?”

There was a lot happening here at Camp Clifford just 24 hours before the wedding.

When I pulled into the driveway after work, I was shocked to see Jake and Sam and my nephew, John playing catch.

I was well aware that an innocent game of catch probably wasn’t all they were going to be up to.

“You could mow the lawn,” I said.

“We could,” they admitted. “We probably won’t.”

Half an hour later they were getting ready to leave.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Going to get wings.”

That eventually led to bowling, a trip to a bar, and finally, another game of catch.

All good stuff unless you’re an uptight man who is used to routine.

“I wish they’d just let me know what their plans are,” I said.

“They don’t have plans,” Kathy said.

That made me think of the night before my brother’s wedding.

We were up all night, and a game of billiards turned into a game of pool hockey.

Here were the rules:

Two brothers stood on one side of the table and armed with 5 pool balls…

…they threw the balls on the table in the direction of the pockets that the other two brothers were guarding…

…with our hands.

If you got one in the pocket you got a point.

The balls were truly flying…

If the ball went off the table there were no rules.

We physically fought to gain control of the ball.

Insane!!

We all had swollen fingers for the wedding, and at one point all four of us were laying on the floor of the storage room, the pool ball being held as if it were a bar of gold.

There was beer involved.

At the wedding my Mom called me over.

“Does John look pale to you? I think he’s awfully nervous.”

I couldn’t tell Mom that he’d had 18 beers, two hours of sleep, two broken fingers and perhaps a slight concussion.

“He looks all right to me,” I said.

So, I thought about that silliness as I held back the urge to ask the boys what they were going to do to pass the time.

Sometimes it’s better to not know.