Ahhh… the cul-de-sac. My husband’s and my favorite hot spot. It’s where all the action is, where the party inevitably ends up, and where a lot of life’s lessons (at least in the nicer weather) seem to be taught.
We live on a cul-de-sac of 3 houses in a nice little community here in Exton, PA. Our neighbors are awesome and we are great friends. In turn, our children have become great friends. We spend A LOT of time racing around our little concrete circle so I’ve decided I want to chronicle the capers of these cul-de-sac kids. I’d like it to be a little unedited version of conversations and happenings between these little friends and maybe some insight into what goes on in those little heads of theirs.
Setting the scene- Jagger circles our 11 year old neighbor “T” who is playing basketball on the hoop placed in our cul-de-sac – he is deciding on an approach to get into the game. It goes a little like this:
Jagger: What’s that?
T: My coat.
Jagger: Why did you take it off?
T: Because I don’t need it.
Jagger: Why did you leave it there?
T: Because I’m done with it.
Jagger: Oh. I have a coat. Inside. Not on.
T: Hmph.
Jagger: I’m good at dribbling
T: Silent look of disbelief (rightfully)
Jagger: see-watch. (jumping down off his little Hummer and grabbing a ball)
Jagger dribbles the ball- meaning bounces it once and catches it, repeat, repeat.
T: Looks at me as if to say, “You do realize that’s not dribbling, right?”
Jagger: When I’m done basketballing, I will give this ball back.
T: It’s not mine.
Jagger shoots. Misses. Chases the ball onto the grass. Pauses to pick up a dandelion.
Jagger: Look T- look what I found.
T: Ignore (apparently T doesn’t see how beautiful yellow weeds are)
T attempts a shot. Misses.
Jagger: Look mom- he didn’t make it. You didn’t make it.
T: Awkward smile. (probably glad none of his friends are around)
Jagger: Try again. If you make it you can get a trophy.
T: Tries again. Misses.
Jagger: Oh no. No trophy. (I laugh. Can’t help it.)
Jagger pauses to inspect and then eat strange black thing off of his chin. Quickly realizes it wasn’t meant to be eaten. Spits it out. Starts to shoot again. Misses. A number of times. Comes close enough to apparently warrant a spontaneous “Yeah for me” dance.
Jagger stops dancing long enough to notice the color of the ball.
Jagger: Look it’s yellow and blue!
Then he hugs it and strangely, licks it.
Me: That’s disgusting! Don’t do that! Seriously…
T has apparently seen enough. He heads into his house.
Jagger: Where’s he going? Why’s he going inside?
Me: Why do you think?
Jagger: Because he’s done?
Me: I think you’re probably right.
This is so hilarious. I grew up with a tribe of neighborhood kids and this could be a scene from back in the day
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