A United Nations Playdate
The dark haired beauty brought two of her girlfriends home today. There has been much shrieking and giggling. I look at the three girls, all on the verge of turning six and I can already see the future. It doesn’t take any effort to picture them talking about boys and big girl things.
Maybe that is because they are talking about the boys from their class. Mind you that it is age appropriate discussions, they are already discussing who they would marry. So I walk into the room and interrupt the conversation and say that I am there to represent the fathers.
More squealing and furious protestations take place. They don’t like boys and they don’t want boyfriends. I laugh and walk out of the room. I am not ever around the corner when I hear the conspirators begin whispering again.
One of the girls says that they should speak Hebrew so that I can’t understand. The dark haired beauty whispers back that it won’t work because I speak Hebrew. On a side note, I don’t speak it nearly as well as I used to. But I speak understand enough to get by and I never tell anyone how much I do or don’t understand. When people don’t think you understand they really let their guard down and you learn all sorts of interesting stuff.
A second suggestion is floated. The third girl says that she’ll teach them Persian. I see another opportunity to play and I walk back in. I know fifteen or twenty words in Persian, so as I walk in I throw a few out. Her eyes get wide and I tell her that she can speak to me. She giggles and I tell her that I know Farsi because I know 2 million Persians. She laughs again and the dark haired beauty tells her that I am being serious.
In a house not too far from our own my son is on his own playdate. And I can guarantee that he and his friend aren’t talking about girls or playing house. It will be a mix of wrestling, DS or Wii and running. In between he’ll tell his friend that they are lucky not to be at our house with the stinky girls.
Later on I’ll use my father’s line and say that one day he will be happy when his sister brings her friends home. He’ll sputter something about never being happy and glare at me.Â I take pleasure in some of these little moments.
It is fun to see the children play. I remember those days ever so well….