Famous last words spoken by a five year old–Jeffery James. He comes over to visit from time to time, looking for Emily and William, the kids who live above me. And every time he comes over, he wants to come in through my part of the house to get to theirs. I have to explain that this house has two dwellings with separate entrances. He never seems to understand. It is, really, a hard thing to explain to someone so young. I mean, why wouldn’t you be able to come in to the downstairs of a house and have access to the upstairs?
Heck, I’m having a hard time explaining it to you. It’s like this, I finally told Jeffery James: it’s like two houses in one. That he understood. And he ran off to find his friends Emily and William. They’re all in the front yard right now, daring each other to touch a slug. Jeffery James just offered to touch a spider instead.
It’s just after 5pm on a Sunday, about the time the Sunday dulldroms set in. Tomorrow it’s back to work (eew!), back to days away from Petey, quiet evenings and early mornings. It’s right about this time in my weekend that I start preparing for the next five days. Laundry. Cooking enough to eat leftovers all week. Cleaning. Domestic crap. (Don’t touch it!)
And Jeffery James and William and Emily are playing outside, seemingly obvilious to the fact that yet another weekend is coming to its end, that there’s school tomorrow, that they’re running short on play time.
But there are slugs to touch and spiders to find and bikes to ride. There’s lots of sunlight and a cool, comfortable breeze. Why worry about the onset of Monday? Who cares about laundry and cooking and cleaning? This is time for shouting, for running across the street, for running around trees and daring each other to do stupid things. This is time for fun. There’ll be plenty of time for worrying about the workweek. But not quite yet.