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Pretty much everything I've mentioned over the past couple of weeks that doesn't cost an arm and a leg; mostly because those beers aren't bought in quantities that last very long. Not that I drank them all myself. Far from it. There was a gathering of the cul-de-sac this evening, and as is right and proper on such occasions, the children ran around, the men drank beer, and the women timed my wife's contractions to see if one man in particular needed to stop drinking beer.
As it turned out, I didn't have to. This was much to the wife's dismay, as she wanted "this thing out of me, now. "
The demographics of the gathering change each year. We live in one of Durham's "transitional" neighborhoods, where young couples buy their first house, have their first child, then raise said child until he or she reaches school age. Then they move, for to remain means that said child must attend a Durham public school, and no one wants that.
This means is that children Ngnat's age are as scarce as hen's teeth in our locale, and that schooling is always a hot topic at neighborhood gatherings.
The transitional aspect of the subdivision means that makeup of the group in the driveway changes each year. But, since the families who remain eventually run do run across each other, those who attend now come from farther and farther afield. Two fifths of those whose children ran screeching around the asphalt circle tonight originate from other asphalt circles, desolate circles where there is no home brewer, and thus no reason to associate with one's fellows.
Poor bastards.
The lack of age-appropriate chums in the neighborhood for school-age kids leads to something akin to courting behaviour when one does stumble across a family with similarly aged offspring. We met a family with a seven-year old girl and a four-year old boy last week at the neighborhood pool, and since then they've taken both Ngnat and Scotty M off our hands for a play date, baked us cookies, and invited Ngnat for a sleepover.
And by "since then," I mean "today."
"I don't trust 'em." I told one of our longer parental acquaintances. "They're too nice. I prefer couples with visible flaws, like you all."
Fortunately, the above was taken in the spirit it was intended. Afterwards, both of us spent the rest of the evening making sure that the father of the seven-year old girl and four-year old boy had a decent brew in his glass, and was at all times engaged conversationally on a number of interesting and diverting topics.
Courting is a two-way street, after all.
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Now, that's a complex beer. Mo' essays, please!
Congratulations!
Posted by:
Jim (Related) |
June 4, 2007 07:39 AM
I agree with Jim. I know time is difficult to come by, what with number three child only days away, but I miss the essays of family doings. They are you at your "flawed" best.
Posted by:
Yomamma |
June 4, 2007 09:51 AM