David
I Was Smiling From Ear-To-Ear…
Two peas in a pod.
It’s fun to watch two friends interact when the friendship is a close one. For me, it was especially fun to watch my son Aaron and his pal David playing together as they attacked each adventure. From day one these two little-men forged a bond that would last a life time.
David and his mom Terri had come over on that first day. It was an interview to see if this was the right fit for him since day-care was needed. Both David and Aaron were less than two at the time, so no one really knew if they would actually hit it off.
Marm and Terri were busy hashing out all the business details while these two had the opportunity to hang out…and hang out they did. Instantly they clicked. No sooner were the ladies inside the back door of the house and Aaron and David were running off together laughing and jabbering like old friends. This laughing and jabbering has never stopped.
It never really mattered what they were up to, it was just that they had the best time doing it together. They were inseparable.
I have witnessed them playing inside the house, outside in the yard, and tormenting their sisters to no end. These two rascals were fun to watch. I have scads of memories from these two. (More on that in later posts.) Oddly enough, one of my favorite memories of these fellows took over twenty years to complete. The greatest satisfaction actually came at the end.
Like so many boys do when they’re young, they loved to play army. Wrong, right, or indifferent, they loved getting dressed up in all their gear. They had real and fake camo green helmets, packs, belts, and weapons: rifles, pistols, and swords of course. It never mattered one bit that the weapons weren’t accurate period pieces. They were well armed and that’s all that counted.
They would run whooping and hollering at the top of their lungs while making loops around the open yard pretending to be on a mission of some sort or another. They were fighting an imaginary foe of magnificent strength. They would yell and shout as they bravely charged in attack while brandishing their swords and waving their guns wildly in the air. Just as suddenly they would fall back in full retreat when the enemy blinded-sided their assault from the flank and the imaginary battle turned against them. Over and over and over again they would re-enact one mock battle after another.
Observing these childhood activities was more than enough for me. My arsenal of fond memories lacked for nothing. These boys were a joy to be around, or better yet, watch play.
Sadly, all of these things came to an end all too soon. The boys had grown and those cherished toys from the glory days in the army were no longer needed and were left haphazardly in their rooms collecting dust. Eventually, Aaron’s army gear ended up in a box, over in a corner, up in our attic, with all the other relics that were part of his childhood. There they slept.
As is with life, these boys became men. They had grown up and were now their own masters. They owned their own homes, had their own wives, had real jobs, real cars, real monthly payments. So, in honor of their great independence it was only befitting that we bequeathed to them their proper due. Simply said, it was time for Aaron to come get all of his junk out of our attic. We wanted the space back for our junk, thank-you-very-much!
He knew there was quite the pile of history up there, and being the bright man he is, he had the presence of mind to have David come over and help him with the move.
I was there to help too, but most of the work was going to be done by these robust young studs. They were having quite the time pawing through the mess of things when suddenly one of them stumbled across the box with the ol’ army gear in it.
It was like being in a time machine. Right in front of my eyes these two full-grown men dissolved into two little boys gearing up for war again. It…was…impressive! It was scary, actually!
In and amongst those toys the “boys” were once again pulling out the helmets, packs, belts, and weapons. They put all of it back on and were instantly reliving the glory days. It was a sight to behold. I have to tell you it actually brought tears to my eyes as I watched them. Once again they were those two little guys from by-gone years. They had stepped back in time, if you will, and were those best of best friends that only a childhood spent together could produce, and I was smiling from ear-to-ear.
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Playing Opossum
“Just wait until your father gets home!” was a line Martha never used on our children. Early on in our marriage we had discussed how important it was that the kids look forward to me coming home. We believed that statements like that would create the opposite effect. Looking back I think we were right.
During the early “daycare” years it was very common for there to be “rent-a kids” still on site when I rolled in from my work day. It was also inevitable that as soon as I stepped through the door the kids wanted to wrestle. Most often this would include three to six kids all slobbering over themselves in the hope of literally jumping up and down on me.
Some of my fondest memories are from these times. We’d all roll around on the floor tangled in huge human knots for the better part of half an hour. Giggles, laughter, and the occasional high-pitched scream were the language of the moment. Dickens was right. “These were the best of times.”
I did have an infrequent problem when it came to these wrestling matches however. Some days I was simply exhausted. I don’t mean that end of the day weariness that was the norm. No, this was different. I was literally too tired to play. On top of that, I knew I was grumpy. That’s the worst. I have a mean grumpy.
It was hard to turn them down even on days when I felt like this. It was impossible to say no to those eager little faces. Yet, I knew it was only a matter of time before my grumpy was going to get the best of all of us. I really didn’t want that to happen. Thank the Lord, the answer presented itself rather simply one day.
I gave in to the usual requests and begging to be the target of their assault. I lay down on the living room floor waiting for the ritual sounds of running feet, the short silence that came while they were airborne, and the sudden shock on impact that usually sent them tumbling off the other side of my pummeled body. What usually followed was me slowly rising like a monster from the deep and chasing after them. This day I didn’t move. I lay there still as stone. The sudden silence in the room was proof that this was something new, and uncertain. It was a challenge not to smirk.
The whispers began immediately.
“What’s your dad doing?” asked David
“Don’t know,” answered Aaron.
At this point all the kids began to talk to me, trying to get me to chase them. Nothing happened. I was still and silent with only one eye slit open ever so slightly. I could hear them sneaking closer.
“Touch him. I think he’s dead,” said one of them.
I felt a tentative poke from a foot on my foot. Then I felt a firmer tap from another foot against my side. More pokes came as their confidence rose. Suddenly there were kids all over the top of me punching, pulling, kicking and I even got a bite from one of them. Still I lay motionless and silent.
They were scared now. The pleading began for me to wake up. They began to think I might really be dead. I was surprised that they hadn’t lost interest yet. I guess I figured they would soon, so I did the unexpected at this point. I reached out suddenly and grabbed an ankle tightly in my hand. The shriek from David was heart-felt. I’d totally scared the pants off the little bugger. He squealed and squirmed. wriggled and twisted while hollering for help from his stunned friends. They all grabbed him and started pulling against my hold, or grabbed my hand and tried to unbend my fingers. It was all I could do not to burst out laughing and ruin the effect.
Then, just as suddenly I released my hold and went limp again. Now it was game on for real. The kids loved it. It became a favorite for all of us. What they didn’t know at the time was that all I was doing was getting some much-needed rest while I lay there on the floor. To them I was playing dead. For me I was simply sleeping or close to it anyway.
I had tripped over the answer and it worked brilliantly. The grumpy had been defeated and one of our favorite games invented simply by playing opossum.
Curls & Capes 