It was a rough week. Work was busy, the children were somewhat difficult, I had car trouble, and the housework was never ending. On late Friday evening, I walked down to my friend's house, offering gifts of daiquiris, to vent.
While I was there, I said something about her children. She has double the amount that I have. It seems....almost impossible. I grew up in a house with 4 kids so I should know how it works, but it seems so all-consuming. I mean my 2 kids are a handful. Her husband laughed, "Well, look at how many kids are always at your house. You can't even claim them on your taxes." I laughed but his comment gave me pause.
Our house has always been open. Not a single day goes by that I feel like we don't have someone here. Children, friends, family. There are so many people coming and going. I have a small house and it's not always as clean as I want it to be, but if you don't mind you can come and stay for a while.
I am not always keen on having my kids stay at other people's houses so I do offer that they can come here. Consequently, there are always kids at my house. I took the children to the river yesterday and they each brought a friends. They were my 4 children for the day. There is one little girl who spends the weekend once every few months, we have taken the kids friend's on vacation, we always have some child sleeping at the house.
It is a blessing to have the house full of children but not have to send them all to college. We may only have 2 kids but we love so many more than that. That's how it's supposed to be. I know that both of my kids have parents who love my children. It is a blessing.
But now it's boys too. We haven't really had boys showing up at the house since E-man used to come everyday and sit on the electric box out front with my daughter. That was months ago. That changed about 3 weeks ago.
This new boy showed up on my front lawn. I didn't recognize him. That's because he is in the grade above my daughter. My husband and I were watching a show when my daughter came in and said, "Hey, my friend T-man is here. He wants to meet you guys." WTF.
This kid who is at least 4 inches taller than I am, walks into my living room with his head held high and shook our hands and introduced himself. If he was nervous, he was hiding it well.
"How old are you?" I asked.
"I'm 12, ma'am."
"You are going into the 8th grade?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Oh my god! Eighth grade. We interrogated this child. Not intentionally, just because we were curious. Who is this tall 12 year old who just walked into my house like a boss? He spoke intelligently, was well-mannered and charismatic. He seemed like an-ok kid. After we interrogated him, they played Jenga on the coffee table while we watched the rest of the show.
T-man has come to my house pretty much every single day since then. I don't mind if they hang out, as long as it's at my house, supervised. He rides his bike over rain or shine. That is dedication. He sits next to my daughter on the couch and they watch TV and he occasionally looks over at her with hearts in his eyes.
Kill me.
I always stay close by. Not too close. I don't sit on the love seat and stare but I cook dinner, work in the adjoining dining room, keep an eye out. I pop in to remind them to leave enough room for Jesus between them on the couch.
Last week, something about him was different. His demeanor has changed. Something was bothering him. "Is everything ok with you, T-man?"
"Well, my mom is going on vacation with my step-dad so I have to stay at my grandparents house for 10 days."
"Oh, so you can't come over?"
His face dropped. "No, ma'am."
I thought for a minute, "Well, by the time you get back we'll be headed to South Dakota for 8 days."
The look on his face when those words left my mouth was nearly tragic. You would have thought I told him that his dog died. Pure melancholy.
In spite of the fact that he is supposed to have gone away for 10 days, he has still found ways make it to my house. It's not every day, it's been sporadic but where there is a will, there is a way.
I don't trust this kid. Mostly because I don't trust kids in general. He's a nice kid, I am quite fond of him but he is still a 12 year old boy who works out, wears Axe body spray and looks at my daughter with hearts in his eyes. He is still a human being. My husband will hear none of it. He is team T-man.
"Don't be talking sh*t on T-man," he says.
"I'm not. I'm just saying I don't trust him."
"He's a nice kid."
"That's all part of the plan. Do you think he doesn't know what he's doing? He's smart. You always win over the parents first. That way they'll let you sit on the couch next to your daughter."
"I don't think he plotted that."
"It could be our own daughter who plotted it. I pray she isn't anything like I was."
"Yeah, that would be the worst."
It would be the worst. Payback is a bitch.
I've warned him not to get used to T-man being part of the scenery. Our daughter is in 7th grade which means he probably won't be around through the end of the summer. That's the way it goes in Middle School. Relationships are intense but fleeting.
At least I still have a little one. She be little for like another second. It's not easy. Don't Trust Kids.
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