scientific spellbinder
INFORMATION FOR MY SIX-YEAR-OLD
I love helping you. Even with things that you can do perfectly well on your own, such as zipping up your jacket, shampooing your hair, pouring more juice. I am happy to do these things because (a) you willingly do them in times when I can't or don't want to, because you are a capable girl and not a whiner; (b) I only have one kid and am pretty organized, so I usually have the time; and (c) I know the days when you actually want me to do things for you are limited.
Just a note, though: when you start telling me that I am doing the things WRONG? I am so out of there. Do it yourself. This has happened twice now and you seemed perfectly stunned each time, but cause/effect is in the HIZZOUSE so please get that through your adorable skull. Thanks.
SIGN ON MY FOREHEAD: “COME TALK TO ME”
Chicago has had some ridiculously nice weather lately, and this weekend was full of playground. LT stayed home to do house projects and Nora and I headed to the park. Nora played hard and when the ice cream man showed up I bought her a weird popsicle thing in the shape of Batman's head and we took a bench break. This other family with a toddler arrived and headed for the baby swings. They stuck the kid in the swing and then stood there, not pushing her, but talking intently. It took me a while to notice, but they were definitely looking our way during their discussion. Once I even glanced over my shoulder to see if there was anything amazingly interesting just behind me. Then I started to get paranoid. Asian mom, white dad, mixed child—is the mom a crazy person who is going to march over and yell at me for ripping Nora away from her birth culture? Are they swingers who are trying to figure out the best way to get me to follow them home and get freaky? (If so, how would that work? Would they get a sitter?)
Finally, still without ever pushing their daughter on the swings, they all came over to share our bench. And man, it was awkward. No introductions, just sort of eavesdropping on me and Nora and interjecting once in a while. Coupled with some totally out-of-the-blue questions. “Does your daughter like spiders?” Why? Did you bring a bag of them or something?
Also I think I freaked him out when he went over to swing around on the climbing bars (dear god, please have some dignity):
Oddly Friendly Dude: Look! Papa's a monkey! Look baby, Papa's a monkey at the zoo!
Me: Just don't start throwing your feces.
Eventually mom and daughter went off to play, as did Nora, and dad stayed behind to continue the unwarranted chitchat. He expressed anxiety about odd things, such as the fact that the school in their neighborhood (which has a great reputation) was rumored to have a “mean” third-grade teacher. Because you know, that's the sort of thing to stress about when your kid is two and a half. I smiled and avoided eye contact but made with the nice nice, but after a while I excused myself and moved to a better vantage point from which to watch Nora hurl herself off of playground equipment. Still without having exchanged names, so I guess the swinger theory is out unless they are the most inept swingers ever.
I feel like a mean old sourpuss when things like this happen, because some people really are just that friendly and I guess I am a living Sad Commentary by finding it weird. It takes a village! But I'll be over here lurking on the outskirts! Don't mind me!
YOU WOULD THINK THERE WOULD BE ONLY ONE: A TALLY
Things I was surprised to see in multiples. This particular logbook was kept for April and May. Every time I saw something unusual I made a note, and then probably I started becoming tuned into the note things, and lo and behold there they were again.
2 pregnant women with casts or slings on their arms
5 children who were too big for strollers (in my judgmental and possibly ill-informed opinion)
3 older Asian women in motorcycle jackets
3 people biking and trying to drink coffee at the same time
2 honest-to-god beehive hairdos
4 people cleaning their ears with sharp objects
2 people who licked their watch face to clean it
—mimi smartypants, everyone thinks she's a raincloud.