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Please don’t lick the door

Please don’t lick the door

Summer at my house is defined by the amount of kids hanging out on my porch.  Five or less, it’s early Spring. Ten or more and it is officially Summer.  I have a sliding glass door and if it revolved I could have cheap air conditioning.  I’m not the only one with a porch, either. I’m not sure what the attraction is unless those are all our yogurts and  Sunny Delights I see my middle daughter handing out to the neighborhood kids.  I am popular though, when they have something they want to throw away or need to use the phone. Who am I kidding? I usually have one of them call my phone, so I can find it.

My youngest daughter thinks of herself as the entertainment committee for the throng of kids between 4-10 that gather on my back porch.  She will start with one or two toys and by the time I have done the dishes there is a complete replica of her bedroom set in the backyard and the door is wide open. 

My middle child is the banquet and facilities server for all these children that live a mere 30 feet away and cannot drag themselves to got a drink of water or use their own restroom. I can hear my phone ringing, but alas I know it is not for me plus I could not find it if there was a money prize involved.  

My oldest daughter is the commentator, also on the award- winning debate team in her high school.  She can text, while riding a bike with one contact in.  Her listening skills do not include eye contact but lots of “uh huh, uh huh..” She says if I had an I Pod Touch she would be able to listen to me better.  I say she might be able to listen to someone if she didn’t throw her phone at her sister. I might as well rung a bell. Three girls and myself make this house a hotbed of dramatic action.  I have no need for soap operas, I live in one.

As it is there are nine kids on my porch right now.  The neighbor’s three year-old is kindly cleaning the sliding glass door with her tongue.  

“Quit licking the glass!” My oldest one yells and sends a picture of the poor kid to 20 of her nearest and dearest friends. I wander into the kitchen, I immediately get the “You’re in the wrong room look “ from three preteens. I mouth the lyrics to the latest Justin Bieber hit, and sing, “I’m gonna dance unless you get outside and enjoy this beautiful day!”  They leave. I look for one of my fat-free yogurts.  Gone, along with every spoon in the house.  Outside, there is a wolfpack of kids in the backyard. This is one of those moments to be savored, treasured. The door opens and shuts and opens another hundred times. Ahh. Summertime.

Categories: Elementary School

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