When Lisa and Stan left, Noah started crying very hard and then crawled into my arms. I hadn’t held him like that since he was just a few months old and we would take naps together. Eventually he stopped crying, mostly because I outlined my four point plan for the evening:
- Bed… and Mom and Dad would come home
It turned out to take too long to make the pizza, so we didn’t go swim at the park, even though it was the kind of day that commands a person to go lie down in chlorinated water while three year olds splash you. How is that not an hour of heaven?
We did go to the park, but I had to carry Noah up the hill. He was being extra cute as we passed a house where five women were seated around a patio table drinking. I sensed their heads swiveling to face me even though all I could see were shadows. A light flashed, which was either a picture being taken of Noah and I, or the sound and fury of five women simultaneously ovulating.
Ladies, please. Last night I went to a trashy movie by myself at 10:30 at night with macaroni and cheese on the shirt that I had worn to sleep the night before. Well, it was just the cheese, but whatever.
Later, as we were walking back down the hill, Noah wanted to run, but tripped, tumbled, and bumped his head a little. Immediate, giant tears poured out of his eyes and he wanted to be held right away so he could scream closer to my ear. I settled him down again and we sniffled our way down the hill. Again the invisible eyes tracked us, and I distinctly heard an “aww” as the last glow of twilight glinted in a tear rolling down Noah’s cheek.
If I ever become completely evil I will just go ahead and use Noah to get dates. Oh yeah, my dad used to do that with me.