I spent yesterday cleaning the condo. I worked alone with the windows and doors open, and once again enjoyed the sounds of a child-populated neighborhood.
Two brothers returning from the basketball court:
Little: “Pleeeeze! I promised!”
Big: “Nope. I’m like God. I don’t care what you promise. I want to see what you DO.”
While wrestling a huge box of garbage from the condo to the dumpster, a group of children — two girls, three boys — came around the corner of the building. I heard gasping and giggling so I pause to look down. They were all looking up at me. I briefly wished they were my students and I could ask for help.
One of the boys said, “Oh, oh. I know that look! Let’s get out of here.”
As they turn to flea a girl answered, “Yeah. Before she makes us work!”
Mother and son at Wal-Mart:
Son: “I want …” and he rattles off a whole list of things.
Mother: “If we get all that we won’t be able to live in our house.”
Son: “But I want to live in our house!”
Son: “But what can I have?”
Mother: “Fifteen minutes to be quiet and let me think!”
You might consider this next conversation odd, but remember, this is an island and it is surrounded by water and that which lives in it. Two of the favorite foods in Hawaii are fish and seaweed — both of which come in a surprising number of varieties.
Teenage daughter: “But I want fish for dinner.”
Mother: “Daddy didn’t catch any fish. We don’t buy what the Lord usually gives us for free.”
The daughter, with that look of disdain upon her face which only teenage girls can achieve, reached both hands into the cart, then pulled them out holding bottles of water.
Mother [heavy sigh]: “What kind of fish?”