Sunday afternoon, around 2:30, a couple came by to see the old Laser Biggy had posted for sale on Craig’s List. Evidently, a Laser is actually a sailboat; all this time I’d thought it was a contraption to catch dead leaves and pine straw.
Anyway, they brought their 7-year-old daughter along, and she must have been impressed by Lo’s nickname for Daisy, Fartbubble, because the two children seemed to hit it off famously. By the time the couple had negotiated the price with Biggy, who was looking for any excuse not to sell the relic from his childhood, Lo and her new friend had disappeared with a miserable-looking Fay into Lo’s room.
While the two menfolk hooked up the trailer to the couple’s minivan, the wife and I had a nice long talk about everything from Africa to Special Ed. Seriously, you’d have thought our spouses were dismantling nuclear warheads, such care and tedium went into the task.
By the time Biggy went upstairs and printed up a bill of sale (in green ink because the black had run out) and the money changed hands, he and Lo were about to give up on making the 5:15 showing of The Simpson’s.
Finally, though, the happy couple said goodbye and headed back outside to the driveway, and I went to throw in a load of laundry. Upstairs, I heard my puppy growling and two girls squealing, so I stuck my head in and told our guest her parents were ready to leave.
When she got outside, with Lo and me behind her, her parents were already halfway down the street and gaining speed. I started waving my arms wildly, and the child began running as fast as her flip-flopped feet would take her toward her parents and their super-exciting new boat that had rendered her so unmemorable.
It took a while, but the brake lights finally brightened, the car stopped, and a door opened to let the child in.
Biggy, walking up the driveway, asked, “Did they really just about leave her here?”
“Yeah,” I said, trying to catch my breath from laughing so hard.
“Totally,” added Lo, holding her stomach.
“That could have been us,” Biggy said. “I could see it happening.”
But it never has, Ladies and Gentlemen. And that makes us better than them.
7 comments:
one time my parents almost left me at home depot. they deny it. but they were loading things in the trunk of the car while i was lost wondering around the lawn mower section. it was awful.
C Simic has a poem about how when he was a child the gypsies stole him . . . but his parents stole him back . . . and then the gypsies stole him again . . .
You could have kept her and sold her on the black market to a childless couple who wouldn't forget her. lol
We would have kept her. Not many kids can get along with Lo.
What's this "we're" shit? I'm pretty much the greatest parent ever.
My parents left my brother 1.) in the grocery store cart 2.) in the backyard swing 3.) in various cars 4.) at the Stegosaurus exhibit in Dinosaur World.
They could never leave me because I talked too much. At some points, I wish they would have. ;)
Ask Sam if he remembers the time my grandfather (his brother) fell out of the car and the car didn't stop until my great-grandmother went leaping out after him.
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