American Girl

She waits another week to fall apart...

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American girls are weather and noise....

If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace. ~ Thomas Paine

Yesterday was my nephew's birthday.  He's six now.  I remember the day he was born, and it's making me especially weepy and nostalgic because the world was such a different place.  Bah.  Don't even want to get into it.  On his birthday, in 1775, Patrick Henry declared "Give me liberty, or give me death".  I was impressed by this little bit of trivia, so I told him, and he said "Who's Patrick Henry?"  Ha.  So I told him that on this day, Ronald Reagan proposed "Star Wars".  That made his eyes light up.  Star Wars =  Cool.  I printed out his day in history, because some day in the all too soon future, he'll be interested.  I interviewed him, like every year, and showed him the things he said in his interview last year.  He said that when he was six, he would be faster than Uncle Jay.  That's pretty fast, so naturally he's very excited.  The weather didn't allow for the big race, but it's been set for Sunday.

Birthday Boy's little brother has a new friend of the imaginary variety.  Clyde is his name, and he is a firefighter.  Clyde answers the call of "HELP!  FIRE!" but he's quite slow, and usually needs to be called more than once.  Just part of the fun, I guess.  After putting out a fire, he likes to have a snack of apple juice and raisins.  Clyde has been called many times to rescue dolls from such perilous places as the top of a dresser.  He also pulls dolls out of ditches by tying a rope around their necks and dragging them to safety.  The dolls appreciate it, their owner does not.

Last night my nephew lay very still under the "rubble" (couch cushions).  After about ten minutes, an eternity to a three year old, especially when there's cake to be eaten, my brother asked him what he was doing.  Waiting, he said, for Clyde to rescue him.  When asked if anyone else could rescue him, he said no, because Clyde would come.  Clyde always does.  So we all turned our heads and pretended that he wasn't reinacting what he was obviously reinacting, not because it's easier that way, but because it feels like something private that we shouldn't be intruding on.  Almost four year olds have a funny concept of privacy.  They could be in the middle of the room, but if no one else has been invited to play, it's private.  It's kind of like "hiding" by standing out in the open and covering your eyes.  If you can't see it, it's not there.

posted by: AmericanGirl at 16:11 | link | comments (2) |

Comments:

#1  24 March 2005 - 16:15

 

That is the sweetest little slice of life you've written here. And now I've wasted enough Motime and must get out of here, or the bride's mother will wear jeans.

InMyLife

#2  24 March 2005 - 22:05

 

But you guys are right there, which is the cool part. xoxo

Leigh

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