Scott and I took Alex to Oriole Springs to pick apples. Alex has been there before, but was too young to remember. He declared the place “cool” and went to work. I suggested that he twist the apple before pulling and after that started to work for him, he taught his father how to do it. Pick-your-own orchards, in my experience, have dwarf trees so that people can reach them. But we even found some Alex’s height. See him in there?
Yeah, yeah. His mother got him the Brady jersey. Reminded us that he was born on the Super Bowl Sunday that the Patriots won. Whatever. But since we were going to an orchard across the border into Wisconsin, it may have been for the best.
Anyway, we filled up our bag and went to the retail side of the street
. Alex was not interested in the petting zoo. Not interested in the playground. Took a cider milkshake while I tried to stand in line for cider donuts, but the line was insane and I gave up after half an hour.
Heading back to the house, Alex was playing on Scott’s iPhone and announced that the Bears were playing the Seahawks next. After clarifying that he meant after the Steelers game, I asked him to cite his source. Because school has deformed my use of language. Scott translated:
“Alex, Aunt Anne is asking how you know that the Bears are playing the Seahawks after the Steelers?”
The boy handed me the iPhone. Sure enough, he was on a page that showed Week Three. On top, there was a Bears helmet and a Seahawks helmet. He can’t read, but he could surf the ‘net on an iPhone and find the information on ESPN. We declared him brilliant and I handed back the phone. I whispered to my brother:
“You have about fours years until he is downloading porn.”