When the doll arrived back in town from her GirlScout camping trip, I informed the boy he was on the hook to pick her up. With both his father and I at work, walking three blocks to retrieve his sister didn’t seem like a hard request. “Okay, here is the key to the house, don’t forget it.” I said. “Wait, what do you want me to do?” He said through sleepy eyes. “Your sister is going to be dropped off at the Dees’ house on Eastglenn at about 12:15 pm. Do you know where that is?” I asked. Shaking his head back and forth, he said “No”.
“Do you remember where Ms. Karen lives?” I asked, not trying to confuse him, but rather give him a point of reference. He looked at me curiously then said “I think so…” “Well, she lives three houses further down the street. In other words if you reach her house, you’ve gone too far.”
He shook his head in acknowledgement and I left for work. Before I had even reached the end of our street he called me back “Okay, where am i supposed to go again?” “When you leave our house, turn left until it dead ends into the park. Turn right and walk up two blocks to Eastglenn and then turn left. The Dees’ live in a big white house on the left hand side of the street. Do you think you can help your sister carry her junk home?” I finished. “Peace of cake Mama.” He replied. “Okay so at about 12:10 you should walk over there right? And then call me when you arrive home safely alright?” “Okay mama”.
About a half an hour later I received a phone call from my dad. “Hi dad!” I said. “Hi mom…” The doll said in a barely audible, yet whimpered voice”. Hi doll, welcome home!” I replied. “Well that’s just it, we’re not at home, because the boy forgot the key!” In the background I could here the boy shout “It was an accident!” “Oh well doll, you’ll have to hang out with Grandpa until your dad gets off work”. I informed. More whimpering ensued along with an incredulous “Really?”
I could have been offended that the doll didn’t want to hang out with my dad, but I couldn’t blame her. Regardless of hearing aids he listens to two televisions on full blast, while he makes his rosaries. That alone is reason enough to find a more appealing place to go for an eleven (or most anyone) year old. “Hmmm, you could try calling your Grammy-she has a key to the house…” I suggested and before I long I received an additional phone call from the doll informing me that her grandmother was taking the kids out to lunch.
Later after work I said to the boy, “Thank you for picking up your sister…but next time, try to remember the key..” He smiled and said, “Your welcome mama. Eh….it all worked out AND I got a free lunch out of it…” Smiling back I said, “Your living a charmed life little man, but someday that charm won’t help. Please remember the key from now on”. To which I received the boy’s standard stock answer to just about everything “It was an accident!!”.