So, I was out in the playground, which is right in front of my apartment patio. I heard two kids, and their mothers playing, and talking. I said hi as I walked out to my “garden” to check my herbs.
I am looking them over, (the herbs, that is) and one of the kids wanders over, and asks about my plants. Just then, her mother says, “Kidname, don’t bother him.” The other kid tells her, and this is a quote: “Oh, he won’t mind, that’s The Really Nice Man.” Second kid comes over to join her friend. First kid’s mother talks with Second kid’s mom.
Both moms come over. “They aren’t bothering you, are they?” says mom the first.
“No”, I said. “Not at all.” I look at the first kid with summoned up severity, and ask “You aren’t going to eat my chives, are you?” She solemnly shakes her head, and then asks, “Which ones are chives?” “Are they good to eat?” “Ewwww!” (This in response to a suggestion that they taste sort of like raw onions.) Moms listen in while I identify the herbs. Mom two admires my Oregano. I give her a sprig. She says, “You are The Really Nice Man, aren’t you?”
The second kid tells mom, “Everyone knows him. He looks just like Santa Claus.” She points to my patio. “He lives right there.” “He really likes {New Baby in the Neighborhood}. He gave her mom toys for her.”
We discuss New Baby. I admit they are right. I am absolutely and permanently charmed by her. I gave her mother my daughter’s antique toys. I find out now that some of the neighborhood kids thought that was really cool. By the way, the new baby is outrageously wonderful. Bright, happy, attentive, and bold. Not to mention being beautiful. New Baby’s mom is fairly nice, too.
Anyway, it turns out, I am “The Very Nice Man.” I felt good about it, all day.
Tris
