On a nice day I pick Josh up from preschool and let him run around with his little buddies until I have to pick up Matt. Today, as the boys whizzed past the Moms Josh heard (eaves dropped) me mentioning to another mother that I had just come from Starbucks. Once in the car on the way to Matt, Josh questioned (interrogated) who it was that I went to Starbucks with. When I told him it was Boops, he got visibly upset (weepy) and requested (demanded) that we find Boops and go to Starbucks with her together. I finally realized that it wasn't the thought of missing a caramel frappachino (even though he never says NO to one of those) that was upsetting him, it was the jealousy of me having my own little private play date. So, I called Boops on the cell phone and put her on speaker to tell her in front of Josh that (wink wink) we wouldn't be able to meet at Starbucks anymore unless Josh was available to join us. She went along with it, and asked Josh just what he was missing, and with all the sweetness that he is about he said "Well, I said I said I wanted to go to Starbucks, but what I really wanted was to see you." Then he invited her over.
Since her kids were with her soon-to-be-ex she came over solo and watched me in the kitchen as I began to clean the dishes I have been piling up for the last 3 or 4 days. Then Josh and Evan both came over to play with Boops, and while I washed and scrubbed the three of them ran in circles around the house playing a high speed and furious game of keep-away with Josh's stick pony. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Boops come flying into the kitchen doing a ninja kind of kick in the air pose that anyone genetically related to me couldn't possibly even think of performing and also all sorts of leaps and defensive moves and really macho battle yells that totally had Evan thinking she was a martial arts expert. I could hear them peeling with laughter as they fought hand to hand combat and also monitor their whereabouts by listening to the thumping of their feet as they sped around the house. I washed and scrubbed and rinsed and all sorts of lame-o fun killing things kept creeping out of mouth like "Don't hurt her!" or "Watch out." or the worst "Someone is going to have an accident." and really I knew then what I suspected all along. Evan would be a much happier kid if I had a couple of brothers growing up.
But the game never ended, they broke briefly to scarf down a bit of dinner and then even after Boops got a splinter (and then tried to have an earnest talk with Evan over what amount he would have to pay for her pain and suffering, not to mention the emotional damages) trying to hold onto the horse stick, and Evan was forced to fake an arm injury, in an attempt to recover the stick pony, and in retaliation after Boops lifted his legs out from underneath him, and still they kept going and going. And I, in my own naturally wimpy way, kept saying "Oooh, not there." "Watch out for that." and other old lady party squashing stick in the mud stuff. Eventually Evan was panting and covered in sweat and Boops totally crashed out on the couch.
Now I get to assume my role of nail clipper, bath giver, book reader, bed tucker inner and good night snuggler, but you know Evan is still wishing that I had grown up with a couple of brothers.