Friday, May 04, 2007

Horse Play

My son is a riot. And after last night, I can tell that his teenage years are going to be a major source of wrinkles for me. Let me explain.

I took him to the park for some good running and sliding and such, where he met and promptly fell in step behind a cute blonde-haired blue-eyed girl with big pink sunglasses and a bucket hat. He allowed her to go first on all the slides, followed her around exactly two steps behind, and stopped on a dime right at her side whenever she did. If her hat fell off her head, he picked it up and ran after her, calling out "Gabby, Gabby... your hat!!" and delivering it with all the casual charm of a seasoned gentleman.

Well, three other girls noticed all this lavish attention from my toddler upon the golden haired playground goddess. And the sirens three liked it all too much. They surrounded the young Don Juan, encouraging him to chase them with mock-sword fights and giggles, and eventually he took the bait. Off he went after the sirens three.

The playground goddess joined in for a while, not to simply give up her beau, and the results were comic relief unlike I've ever had before, with a barely subdued smile on my lips and laughter in my heart. Mixed in with a twinge of fear, of course, for what I was in for.

After a while Gabby gave up her chase, and it went unnoticed, as the sirens three never missed a step, always calling to him and luring him in whatever direction they had gone... sometimes together, and sometimes apart. Occasionally he had to choose which siren he would chase, and one young latino lass was having none of his ignoring her, and would promptly encircle him with her arms should he try to chase another... to the point where he had to be pried free of her on several occasions by her mother. Then off he would go, carefree, after the other siren's waiting patiently for him to return to the chase.

Finally exhaustion and the setting sun demanded that I pry my son from the playground and return him to more ritualistic habits such as dinner, a bath, and bed. It was not without grateful tears. He was none-too-happy to leave his sirens, but relieved to be able to rest from his antics.

I will cherish these last days I have at home with my boy before he begins school, without all the drama that the young women will certainly cause. And then I'm going to brace myself for all that is surely to come!

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