"Listen Like Thieves"

I apologize for my sudden case of sensitivity and global awareness yesterday. I'm a little short on sleep. It won't happen again. But, thanks for checking out the website, if you did, and for supporting such an important cause. By the way, social consciousness is punk, unless you hate punk, in which case it's not punk...

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As I mentioned at the beginning of yesterday's post, Connor and I went to the park on Tuesday. Now that the weather has started to warm up, the playground is teeming with rambunctious kids and preoccupied parents too lazy to keep an eye on their own kids, thus forcing me to either play traffic cop to keep careening 12-year-olds from colliding with otherwise oblivious four-year-olds (or my nearly-two-year-old) or get the uncomfortable stares from parents suddenly aware that their kids are running around like lunatics and wondering why the closest adult — me — didn't intervene before their kid ended up with his bottom teeth jammed through his upper lip.

Here's a thought: if you're too much of a lightweight to come to the park during the winter (which, in the South, hardly passes for winter anyway) you lose your right to visit during warmer temperatures. When it's below 50 or 60 degrees outside, we're always assured of having a playground nearly to ourselves — except for a few stir-crazy moms who occasionally try and keep their kids from playing to close to us anyway, and an occasional gathering of uninspired high school students skipping class.

That rule should thin the herd a bit during the spring and summer months, don't ya think?

Also, now that the weather is warming up, we've been able to keep the door to our screened-in porch open. This means that Connor's indoor play area is nearly doubled — well, almost, but we do live in a pretty small house — and the neighbors are subjected to the second-hand soundwaves of Slayer, Radiohead and Blondie, which are transmitted at fairly loud volumes.

What this also means, is that our neighbors are also privy to the many insane conversations that Connor and I share, without the crucial visual context with which to properly judge said dialogue.

For example, this afternoon, Connor and I were enjoying some cupcakes at the kitchen table when he started spreading his icing all over the table. Knowing that if he didn't clean it up, I'd certainly have to, I suggested that he help me out.

This is what the neighbors heard, if they were paying attention...

"Lick it!"

"Noooo!" (followed by an uncomfortable spell of squealing laughter)

"Come on, lick it. You'll like it!"

"Mmmmmmmm." (insert more squealing)


Maybe we'll keep the doors closed tomorrow.