the view from two feet down

20 April 2009

This weekend began a week of adventures with a six year old, as I stay with Sam while his mom’s away on business.  A week of negotiating how many more bites will score dessert, and play dates and Sponge Bob Square Pants.  For the most part it’s all good; the greatest challenges tend to revolve around six year-old boy logic being held up to 47 year-old hasn’t-been-a-mom-of-a-little-kid-in-a-long-time logic.  At one point I told the kid to stop being a pedant, and he didn’t even ask me what it meant – he just looked at me and declared a silent truce.

But it was sure fun seeing that little masked face and gloved hand waving at me from the sidelines of the ball hockey rink.  And then the lingering walk home, admiring the early spring flowers in the neighbourhood gardens.  I showed him what “hens and chickens” were, and he admired the blue scilla and violets most, and at one place where there was a misty blue carpet of them over most of a lawn, he said he would just love to live in a house with a garden like that. 

Later Sam went on a play date, and when I went to collect him three hours later, there was a marvellous work of sculpture spread from the hall through the kitchen and into the living area. The sculpture consisted of more Lego than I have ever seen before in one place, arranged in groups of partially assembled Lego creations and two-foot wide jumbles and piles of yet-to-be used blocks. And the odd pirate ship or space ship or some other kind of crazy vehicle in between. I weakly asked if we might help the other kid clean it up, and the father said, “No, he has a ’system.’” So I hightailed Sam out of there before the mom came home.

We’ve got the rest of the week ahead of us, but something tells me we’ll come out the other side still good friends and with a number of stories to tell his mother.

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