I’m not ashamed to admit that I don’t like kids, or at least most kids. Most kids are abrasive and annoying and should be treated like a fungus. I have no problem with babies because babies at least smell good. This might seem like a huge problem considering that my husband and I are actively pursuing a family of our own, but I firmly believe that all kids don’t need to be sprayed with Formula 409 Degreaser or duct-taped to a chair and gagged in a daily basis, and I’m willing to take my chances. Some kids are super cool.
Some kids include the four girls who live next door to my mother. The oldest is Maddy, age 10, followed by a set of twins, Alex and Ally, age 8, and the youngest is Isabelle, age 6. They are the coolest set of sisters I have ever met, and I don’t ever get tired of listening to them talk and talk about what they learned in science class today, like how flies produce a viscous mucus everytime they land on something, so I had better watch out for flies! They are refreshingly fearless, always walking around with worms or bugs in their cupped hands, or digging up snails and throwing them over the fence so that their shells will make that spectacular cracking sound when they hit the concrete on the other side. When I was their age I would have been on a Save The Snails campaign and cried if I ever found one in pain, and when I told Alex this she said, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” I so want to be Alex when I grow up.
I’ve taught the three oldest sisters to do backflips and back-hand-springs on the trampoline, and everytime I go over to play they’ve mastered another acrobatic feat and CAN’T WAIT to show me. The youngest is too small to do flips, but she’s constantly entertaining us with her itty-bitty helium voice and 40-yr old attitude. One of the twins won her school’s spelling bee the other day by spelling ADOPT the right way, and Isabelle, wanting to be included in the conversation says, “Heather, I ADOPT you! [giggle giggle] I’m just KIDDING! I CAN’T ADOPT! I’M STILL LITTLE!”
Chuck gets to play with their Australian Shepherd, Max, who is at the same time the most poncy and most aggro dog on the planet. They play for hours at a time, biting each other’s necks and ears and falling all over each other like little homosexual canine lovers. Chuck has a permanent grass burn on his nose from trying to bite Max’s ankles and failing miserably.
When we told them several weeks ago that we were going to move out of my mother’s basement and into our own house they didn’t quite know how to react. Why couldn’t we live with my mother forever? (BECAUSE I WOULD EVENTUALLY KILL MY STEP-FATHER IN HIS SLEEP, that’s why, but I didn’t share that with them, they probably wouldn’t understand) I assured them that I would come and visit often and that they could come see my new house and we could totally play Barbies in my new basement.
This weekend their mother brought over a set of good-bye cards they’d made for me and Jon and Chuck. And seriously, if ever there was a reason to like kids, these cards are totally that reason. Especially since the pictures they drew of me are eerily accurate and flattering in a we-don’t-remember-your-septic-tank-poopy-red-hair kind of way.
I’m totally going to miss them.
Here’s what Alex thinks I look like (click on image for the whole card):
Here’s what Ally thinks Chuck looks like (click on image for the whole card):
Here’s what Isabelle thinks I look like (click on image for the whole card):
