Summer lovin', happened so fast
I do believe Reilly Kate has a c-r-u-s-h on the neighbor boy, Kevin.
We met Kevin when we first moved in, but haven't seen hide nor hair of him since. Or anyone in the neighborhood for that matter. I'm assured that everyone is holed up their houses as a result of frigid temperatures and not a reaction to us. You can't help but wonder, though. Since the weather has turned nice, Kevin has been out in the backyard, swinging on his swing. We still haven't seen any of the other neighbors. Still holed up, I guess.
Kevin is a nice, 9 year old boy. And if I were 5 I'd think he was absolutely hunka hunka. He's got nice eyes and a great smile. Plus, he's weird. A perfect match for Reilly Kate. Mike stood out there one day as the two were talking over the fence (his house is behind ours so our backyards are only separated by a dilapidated split rail fence) and said it sounded like two aliens from the planet Weird.
Now, I don't use the term "weird" lightly or derogatory. There are variations of weird. Weird can be great. Or it can be just weird. Reilly Kate is weird weird with a streak of great weird that flares up occasionally. Kevin too seems to be weird weird. On first impression, he seems almost autistic. Perhaps he is. It's not something you really ask another parent.
"By the way, your kids seems a little off. Is he a 'tard?"
No, that wouldn't win me any popularity contests. So I ain't askin'. I'll just do my own observations and come to my own conclusions and keep them to myself. And this blog. Which is easily found with a quick Google to my name which is all over this here blog. Yeah, I guess I'm broadcasting this to all who cross my path and have access to the internet, which is everyone not living in a third world country. Shit. No wonder I'm not so popular.
Okay, back to the c-r-u-s-h. Every night we've been eating our dinner outside on the old deck. It's been beautiful, bugless weather which I figure we might as well enjoy while it's here. All through dinner Reilly Kate talks so loudly it's as if her mouth were a bullhorn.
"Mmmm... this dinner is GOOD. I bet KEVIN would love it. KEVIN loves dinner. And worms. KEVIN loves worms. I bet KEVIN will be coming out soon. KEVIN goes to all day, every day school. KEVIN's in 3rd grade. But KEVIN is home from school now. And KEVIN will be coming out any minute now."
And sure enough, before dinner is over, Kevin is there on his swing swinging. And saying, "Hello. Hello. Hello," over and over and over. He'll keep going until everyone in his view says "Hello" back to him. It's a bit annoying. Plus, he has taken a shine to Alyx, our German Shepard Dog. He was terrified of her at first, but now, for whatever reason, has decided she is his buddy. "Alyx. Alyx. Alyx. Alyx." over and over and over until she finally comes up to the fence. Then as soon as she leaves, it's "Alyx. Alyx. Alyx. Alyx," all over again.
Reilly Kate then finishes her dinner and runs between her swing in our yard and the fence that separates ours from his. Back and forth. The two swing and talk. Like Mike said, two aliens from the planet Weird.
It never dawned on me that Reilly would have a c-r-u-s-h on Kevin. I don't know what I was thinking, but I really thought that 5 was a bit young for that. Then again, at 5 I was in love with Shawn Cassidy and Mickey Melfi, a childhood friend I was determined to marry, keeping Shawn as a part time lover. I would cry when Mickey had to be dropped off at kindergarten, fearing that he'd marry one of his schoolyard playmates. 'Cause you know all those kindergarten "playmates" are just whores after my man.
Yesterday Reilly Kate came running up to me, a love struck, silly grin plastered on face. "Mama! My secret plan is working," she whispered.
"What secret plan?" I asked.
"My secret plan to get Kevin out here."
"Does your secret plan involve shouting his name all through dinner?" I inquired.
"No. Of course not," she replied and went off running up the hill toward the fence. As she ran she spread her arms out wide and yelled, "Kevin! I'm poetry! I'm POETRY!"
"Your what?" he asked.
"I'm POETRY!!" she explained.
"I'm cannonball. CANNONBALL," was his reply.
"Me, too. I'm cannonball and poetry."
And on like that the aliens from the planet Weird went, doing their strange courting ritual. I'm just glad it hasn't progressed to the exchanging of worms. Although, I did notice Reilly Kate digging up a special few and setting them aside the other day. It can't be too far off.
We met Kevin when we first moved in, but haven't seen hide nor hair of him since. Or anyone in the neighborhood for that matter. I'm assured that everyone is holed up their houses as a result of frigid temperatures and not a reaction to us. You can't help but wonder, though. Since the weather has turned nice, Kevin has been out in the backyard, swinging on his swing. We still haven't seen any of the other neighbors. Still holed up, I guess.
Kevin is a nice, 9 year old boy. And if I were 5 I'd think he was absolutely hunka hunka. He's got nice eyes and a great smile. Plus, he's weird. A perfect match for Reilly Kate. Mike stood out there one day as the two were talking over the fence (his house is behind ours so our backyards are only separated by a dilapidated split rail fence) and said it sounded like two aliens from the planet Weird.
Now, I don't use the term "weird" lightly or derogatory. There are variations of weird. Weird can be great. Or it can be just weird. Reilly Kate is weird weird with a streak of great weird that flares up occasionally. Kevin too seems to be weird weird. On first impression, he seems almost autistic. Perhaps he is. It's not something you really ask another parent.
"By the way, your kids seems a little off. Is he a 'tard?"
No, that wouldn't win me any popularity contests. So I ain't askin'. I'll just do my own observations and come to my own conclusions and keep them to myself. And this blog. Which is easily found with a quick Google to my name which is all over this here blog. Yeah, I guess I'm broadcasting this to all who cross my path and have access to the internet, which is everyone not living in a third world country. Shit. No wonder I'm not so popular.
Okay, back to the c-r-u-s-h. Every night we've been eating our dinner outside on the old deck. It's been beautiful, bugless weather which I figure we might as well enjoy while it's here. All through dinner Reilly Kate talks so loudly it's as if her mouth were a bullhorn.
"Mmmm... this dinner is GOOD. I bet KEVIN would love it. KEVIN loves dinner. And worms. KEVIN loves worms. I bet KEVIN will be coming out soon. KEVIN goes to all day, every day school. KEVIN's in 3rd grade. But KEVIN is home from school now. And KEVIN will be coming out any minute now."
And sure enough, before dinner is over, Kevin is there on his swing swinging. And saying, "Hello. Hello. Hello," over and over and over. He'll keep going until everyone in his view says "Hello" back to him. It's a bit annoying. Plus, he has taken a shine to Alyx, our German Shepard Dog. He was terrified of her at first, but now, for whatever reason, has decided she is his buddy. "Alyx. Alyx. Alyx. Alyx." over and over and over until she finally comes up to the fence. Then as soon as she leaves, it's "Alyx. Alyx. Alyx. Alyx," all over again.
Reilly Kate then finishes her dinner and runs between her swing in our yard and the fence that separates ours from his. Back and forth. The two swing and talk. Like Mike said, two aliens from the planet Weird.
It never dawned on me that Reilly would have a c-r-u-s-h on Kevin. I don't know what I was thinking, but I really thought that 5 was a bit young for that. Then again, at 5 I was in love with Shawn Cassidy and Mickey Melfi, a childhood friend I was determined to marry, keeping Shawn as a part time lover. I would cry when Mickey had to be dropped off at kindergarten, fearing that he'd marry one of his schoolyard playmates. 'Cause you know all those kindergarten "playmates" are just whores after my man.
Yesterday Reilly Kate came running up to me, a love struck, silly grin plastered on face. "Mama! My secret plan is working," she whispered.
"What secret plan?" I asked.
"My secret plan to get Kevin out here."
"Does your secret plan involve shouting his name all through dinner?" I inquired.
"No. Of course not," she replied and went off running up the hill toward the fence. As she ran she spread her arms out wide and yelled, "Kevin! I'm poetry! I'm POETRY!"
"Your what?" he asked.
"I'm POETRY!!" she explained.
"I'm cannonball. CANNONBALL," was his reply.
"Me, too. I'm cannonball and poetry."
And on like that the aliens from the planet Weird went, doing their strange courting ritual. I'm just glad it hasn't progressed to the exchanging of worms. Although, I did notice Reilly Kate digging up a special few and setting them aside the other day. It can't be too far off.
posted by The Histrionics of a Fat Housewife at 6:31 AM
5 Comments:
I dunno... Alyx is pretty darn irresistable in my book anyway.. RK is too, but of course in her own way.. but maybe because I invented weird. who knows!
Why does it not surprise me that even at 5 years old you wanted a part time lover!!!!! Gotta love ya
that's kinda cool "I'm poetry!"
Could be worse things to be. Unless she's bad 13 year old love poetry. Ick
Poetry and Cannonball. Sounds like a match made in Heaven. Or another planet. So what if they're weird. They're cute! Hey, genius seems like weirdness cuz we don't get it. Einstein's teacher thought he was a tard. And she DID tell his parents! But then weirdness seems like weirdness too. I love weird folks. More interesting.
Oh my god. That was too funny. I love your blog!
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