Finger Stitches Follow-up

After being surrounded by lawn-mowing siblings for two decades, Evan decided it was time for him to learn. In Arlington, we had a push mower. We were the second American household to purchase such a machine since my grandfather in 1962. I loved it and it seemed pretty safe, so I taught Evan how to push it around.

Evan would spend a good 10-15 minutes "mowing" the lawn and it would look like this:

After Evan got stitches in his finger he was supposed to not use his finger for a month, but he still wanted to mow the lawn every few days. His finger wasn't healing, so I told him not to mow. Then I would leave for work and he would mow. How many adults have gotten angry at their teenage-minded son mowing the lawn too frequently?

I told him mowing counted as using his finger. He said it was just his hands. 

Finally, I had brilliant inspiration:

His finger healed in a week. He got the stitches out. And he stopped mowing the lawn.

Riding Separately and Avengers

Evan is proud of his independence. He loves it when he is able to commute, order, eat, and live independently. One situation where he can do this is when riding public transportation and in planes.

When we get on the bus or T, he sees where I am going to sit and makes sure to find another seat 10-20 feet away. Within sight and sound, but not next to me.

Last time we were flying together, he asked on the jet-bridge if we were sitting next to each other. I said no. He smiled and nodded.

A kind and well-intentioned ticketing-desk lady once offered to change our seats so we could sit next to each other. I explained the reason and she smiled and nodded.

Two days ago Evan and I were riding the bus home. He was sitting 3 rows in front of me. After listening to his music for 12 minutes, he called my name, "Brigham! 9 more days until Avengers!" I smiled and nodded.

Oh please, Universe, send someone else to go see this movie with Evan!

4:26pm

For a couple years, Evan had an alarm set at 4:26pm. It wasn't that he couldn't turn it off or change it - Evan knows how to use cellphones better than I do.

I would ask him why he has that alarm, and he would just smile. Normally, he'd've forgotten to silence his phone, and he would rush to squeeze it out of his pocket, open the flip-phone, and turn it off. I'd ask, again, why does he have this alarm if it is so inconvenient. And he would just smile.

Maybe he saw a certain girl every day at 4:26.

Maybe he had a vision at 4:26 years ago and wants to remember the spiritual experience.

Maybe he was just proud of being able to program the alarm on a cellphone.

A Healthy Hearty Appetite

Evan pleases any cook. He is willing to eat almost anything. In years of cooking for him, he has only refused seconds for borscht. If asked, Evan will say his favorite dessert is Crème brûlée. Here are a few short stories about Evan and his appetite.

I walk into the kitchen in the morning and Evan is finishing off some ice cream. "Why are you eating ice cream?" "Breakfast!"

Tyler, Jason and I are sitting on the couch talking about something: eating, food, Evan, dinner, cooking, kitchen, or meals. Evan yells down the stairs, “I’m starving!"

Priesthood session of General Conference starts in 5 minutes. If we walk fast, we can make it to the chapel in time. I holler up the stairs, "Evan, are you ready to go?!" "No, D-I-N-E-R!"

Job Interview

Evan asks me what degree he is studying for: A masters? MBA? What, none? But I have scholarship!

I think he gets confused because he dresses more business than me, uses a business briefcase while I use Blair's decade-old high-school backpack, and he is clean-shaven more frequently than I am. How could I be doing graduate school (again?!) and he not? I guess it seems greedy.

Another similarity, we both are doing lots of job interviews. But apparently, he is much better at them than me.

Last week we met with the legislative aide to a state senator and Evan was handsome, prepared, and professional. He and the lady had a conversation where I was only a translator for two questions. Evan was excited, explained his previous experience, chose his work hours and work days. When asked if he wanted the job, he said, "of course!" He showed that he knew how to commute, shake hands, and win over interviewers quickly.

Well done son!

A Jersey of Sadness

For Evan, movies and television shows are not just reality shows - they are reality. He gets so into the environment, characters, drama, and action that he swings his arms in epic Middle-earth battles, swoons over Sharpay's dance moves, and sings along with Joseph and his 11 brothers.

Such strong belief makes the world a more interesting place, but can also make the world a more disappointing version of the exciting stories from TV and movie theaters.

One of Evan's biggest disappointments ever was a magic jersey that was more like a sweater. The Disney TV show "The Jersey" was five years of body-transportation sports adventures. The main character was a young teen who would put on his dad's old jersey and magically become a different sports star during their big game.

My dad is very considerate and thoughtful. So he contact the producer of the show and got one of the props from the TV show. What a score! What a great Christmas gift!

When Evan saw it, he was also very excited. Ready for adventure, he pulled it over his head.

And stayed in our family room.

He complained that it didn't work and we did not have a good defense for that.

A couple of years later. Perhaps after the wound had healed, he put on a happy face while wearing the sweater.

Hipster Food

Evan and I were at a social event with a lot of hipster food. Everything was gluten-free. Whole forests of baked kale. Some sort of healthy versions of what normally is delicious. What appeared to be small baked cookies were actually quinoa mush-balls with unidentifiable fruit-ish fillings. Salad and salad and salad.

Then in the back, in a big bowl, there were what looked like dried-meat dog chew toys. They were mostly orange, sinewy, with some lighter-looking ligaments surrounding darker-looking muscle.

With the person who prepared all of the food 5-feet away, Evan picked up one and took a bite.

"Agh! That's horrible!"

I was serving up my own plate and quickly turned my head away because I couldn't stop smiling. For the next 7 minutes. Just a big, wide, open smile.

It was dried grapefruit.

Singing in Choir

Evan loves singing. Besides Parker, he is the only other child who carried on my father's passion for choir. Sorry, Dad.

Based on his success singing in Armstrong choirs, after a few years at BYU, Evan said he wanted to join BYU's choir. The lowest level choir doesn't require auditions, Evan follows the conductor well enough to stop singing when everyone else does, and he loves belting out notes, so it was worth a try.

The rehearsal room was in a theater in the HFAC, so I went with him to find the room. This wasn't a class he could just sit in the back - there were seating charts, sheet music, dress rehearsals, etc. What a tender mercy that as we walked through the lobby we ran into our cousin Mariah. She asked what we were up to and we explained. Then Mariah said, "I am one of the conductors of the choir!" What a blessing.

She took care of him, smoothed wrinkles, and the opportunity was amazing. We are so grateful to Mariah and for other people at BYU who helped enrich Evan's experience. He felt welcomed and he was able succeed.

Watch the performance here. He likes singing in concerts. He really likes seeing himself on the big screen.

Gloria

I got Evan a small carved hippopotamus from South Africa. It was likely made in China. When he unwrapped it, Evan immediately had a few questions:

Why didn't you give this to me yesterday?
Is this Gloria? Like Madagascar?
Did you see her?
Did you feed hippopotamuses? Like on your mission?