At the Playground

Daniel had Star Wars plot developments on his mind this morning.

"When will Anakin start turning into Darth Vader?"

"Maybe in the next movie, Episode 2," I guessed. "Or maybe it happens in Episode 3. Maybe the next movie will be about how Anakin and Queen Amidala fall in love. Their kids will be Luke and Princess Leia, remember?"

"Well, do Anakin and Queen Amidala get married in Episode 2 or 3?"

"I don't know, Dans. Maybe they'll have the twins without being married."

"That can't really happen!" exclaimed Daniel, as though we were talking about some movie special effect.

5:15 p.m. The boys and I are at the playground, where I'm letting them run around and burn off some energy before picking up Tab. Unlike our visit here last week, the playground is crowded today with the afterschool children.

Daniel is talking to several older kids. A bespectacled boy with a bowl cut and prominent ears is quizzing him.

"What's nine times nine?"

"Eighteen," replies Daniel without hesitation.

"Ha ha, it's eight-one. How do you spell 'different'?"

"D-I-F-F-R-N-T," Daniel said, giving it a good try.

"He says he's seven; he's not seven!" the kid exclaims to his friends.

Daniel doesn't seem to be upset by the conversation. "I am too seven," he asserts.

Every five minutes or so a parent arrives to pick up his or her child.

"Jessica, your mother's here!" yells one of the women who watch the children. These women almost never speak unless they're announcing a parent's arrival. They are a grumpy lot, on the whole, heavyset, slow moving, tired-looking women. They sit on the benches, which they rarely leave.

I don't think I'd want my children in the care of such people.

One of these days, after the twins are in school, I will be working full-time again; I really hope that when I do, I'll have a job with flexible hours. I don't want to leave the boys somewhere for eight or nine hours out of the day; I want to be there when they get home from school, as my mother was home for us.

It's 5:30 now, and the after school kids are lining up to go back inside the school.

"Just us," Daniel comments.

<<previous : email me : index : next>>