Payback

Lo spent most of the weekend with Mamoo, who seemed a little too happy and anxious to have her over. It's not that Mamoo isn't always quick to invite and glad about the visits, but there was an edge to the excitement this time when she called--extra early in the week, on Tuesday.

I had an inkling it might have something to do with her across-the-street-neighbor-kid, whom we'll call Tommy. The boy had banned Lo from his trampoline the previous weekend--had actually banished her to the sidelines, while all the other kids on the street took multiple turns. Well, Mamoo had witnessed this from her living room window and went over to give him what's what. Mind you, these are six-year-olds we're talking about, but Mamoo was pissed. And she wasn't about to let it go.

"I want you to drop Lo off on Saturday afternoon," she instructed, "and bring her swimsuit--the red one. Do you know what the extended forecast is?"

"Did you get a new wading pool?" I asked, beginning to worry.

"Oh no, even better. Rhonda and I were at Wal-Mart yesterday, and we found something that will teach that bratty Tommy a lesson."

Two hundred dollars, this waterslide cost her. It was like Browning's Pied Piper:

Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering,
Little hands clapping, and little tongues chattering,
And, like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is scattering,
Out came the children running.
All the little boys and girls,
With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,
And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls,
Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after
The wonderful music with shouting and laughter.


I didn't get my revenge gene from nobody, Ladies and Gentlemen.