Today I heard a short knock on my front door and opened it to find Nando (Fernando) and Beto (Alberto) from next door smiling up at me expectantly. They wanted to play badminton.
I gave them some older rackets and a plastic (as opposed to plumed) birdie and told them to come get me when they were done.
They were done, it turned out, when one of the poles holding up the net broke. Now, I'm not sure how it broke. There is a decent chance that it really did just snap on its own accord--it's a pretty cheap set. However, the handle of Beto's racket also mysteriously had come unraveled. Not that there is a causal relationship between those two facts. Rather, the timing of the latter increases the likelihood that neither one happened by chance.
But rather than moan and lament the destruction of our favorite backyard pasttime, I gave the kids the benefit of the doubt and soothed their exclamations of "I didn't do anything! It just broke!" I told them it was okay and not to worry.
Then I thought about the day when Nando--who was all of three? four? at the time--helped Kristin and me rake and bag all the leaves in my yard until dark. And when I say help, I don't mean in the little kid trying to help kind of way. I mean, we wouldn't have finished without him.
And I remembered the kids' excited cries of "hola" that greet me from across my back fence whenever they happen to glance me outside.
And I decided that it was time for badminton season to end anyway.
3 comments:
wow-what a great little post!
That's so cute, and good of you to look at it with that perspective! Good for you!
Nando sounds like a fun kid. Of course, I'm not his nieghbor, but he sounds cool kid. You know it's kind of neat that they come to your house to play, I bet the neighborhood kids love it.
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