So. There we were. Eating dinner. Me, the husband, the brunette and her friend Taylor Swift, and the blonde. When all of a sudden the doorbell rang. The blonde jumped up and started to run to the door. HALT! YOU SIT! And like a good pet, she did. But when the husband answered the door, I didn't hear an adult voice, instead it was a child's voice - asking for the blonde. Next thing I know, the husband's walking back to the table, with a small boy behind him. Titan. That was his name. He didn't look like a Titan. He didn't seem to be clashing with anyone or anything. He looked more like this:
Anyway - Titan plops down at the table next to the blonde and she's gushing like a 15 year old and I'm staring at him, wondering how he got here, the husband's trying to get him a plate of food and the brunette and Taylor Swift are curiously interested in their food all of a sudden. What is so fascinating about this wee one that showed up on our doorstep? Well. He can't just sit there and watch us eat - so I decided to engage him in a conversation - see what he's really made of, ya know?
Me: How'd you get here anyway?
Titan: Rode my bike.
Me: Oh? Where do you live?
Titan: Just up the street.*
Me: Oh, I see. Did you eat supper?
Titan: Because I tricked my mom.
Me: Oh? How did you trick your mom?
Brunette: My left nose is stuffed up.
Me: My left nose is always stuffed up - I was thinking it is a deviated septum and I could get surgery and they could fix this hump on my nose at the same time?
Blonde: I think your nose looks like a witch nose.
Me: Wow. Thanks.
Brunette: JESUS CHRIST blonde - you are SO RUDE.
Titan: Well, I was with my sister and then my mom got home and so then she told me to come down here.
Me: Oh. I see. So she made you come to my house?
Titan: Sort of.
Me: Okay. How old is your sister?
Titan: She's in 6th grade.
Me: So she's getting up there in age, eh? Does she drive the car?
Titan: Only to school... sometimes. Other times she rides the bus.
Blonde: We stood a broom up in our kitchen and it stood there all by itself without any strings.
Titan: How'd you do that?
Me: I parked it there.
Blonde: What? You did not.
Me: Yes. I did. After I rode it in that night - I parked it in the middle of the kitchen. Anyway - Titan - Who do you want to win the game? KU or K-State?
Titan: NEITHER - ICK!
Me: Oh. So you're a HUSKER fan?
Titan: HOW DID YOU KNOW?! HOW DID YOU KNOW?
Me: Uh - the "GOT CORN?" shirt pretty well gave it away for me, dude.
Titan: Hmmmph. I'm going outside to play.
And he got up and let himself out to the front yard to play while we finished dinner. But we were all totally intrigued by this 8 year old - who rode his bike - alone - to our house. At night. And I don't know him. I've never seen him. I have no clue who is parents are or where they actually live. I don't let the blonde ride her bike in the driveway past the 2nd tree. Pretty soon, we ask him what time he needs to be home. 7 p.m. Oh - so he even has a curfew? And he's aware of it? And he knows how to follow it? Christ. I can't even get my teenagers to do that. I must meet his mother. This amazing woman who just orders her children to go play elsewhere, throws them the keys to the car and then skips around her house in peace and silence. I've never heard of such a thing. But I find the child totally fascinating and hope he comes back soon so I can drill him with more profound life questions! And his stopping by certainly made the blonde happy! Not to mention - I totally love to make shit up when I talk to 8 year olds. They're so gullible.
*The husband walked him home because it's nearly dark at 7 p.m. He does NOT live right up the street - he lives closer to 1.25 miles away - and has to cross a fairly well-traveled (by teenage drivers) road in order to reach his house. ?????