Monday, June 09, 2008

Return of the wet kid

So you tell the bevy of tweens to amuse themselves by playing in the sprinkler (you are old-school that way). They run screaming for towels and swimsuits. Satisfied that you've solved the "We're bored" problem for the time being, you go and pick your nose in front of the computer for about a half-hour while squeals of delight rise up from the backyard.

You go to dole out Nutty Buddy bars only to find the tweenies soaking wet and covered in mud from head to toe next to a new mud crater in the middle of your lawn that was not there 45 minutes ago.

After you deliver the mandatory the-party's-over-you-will-
have-to-plant-new-grass-blah-blah-blah tirade and send everyone home and tell your kid to weed the front bed by the tree, you study the mud crater and marvel at how they got from the innocuous kids-with-sprinkler square to the excavating-mud-devil square in less time than it takes for a banana twin-pop to melt. You stick your toe in the cool wet earth.

A woman in her bedroom on the second floor of a house on the street next to yours gasps in the throes of climax. Seven miles due north, a man lying upon a hospital bed exhales his last breath. Somewhere between where you are and the end of space--call it a zillion miles up--a star explodes.

13 comments:

Velvet Fog said...

I know a thing or two about soils and geomorphology, and all I can say to you is: One of those kids either shat or booted on your lawn.

Erin O'Brien said...

Well Fog, if that's the case, at least they did it outside.

Seals said...

Here I am trying to lose weight and you actually typed the words "Nutty Buddy bars."

Mmmmmmmmmmm, those things are like Kryptonite to my diet. :)

Norm said...

At least it wasn't gophers.

Gawd, I hate gophers. HATE.

Zen Wizard said...

So you are saying that life is ephemeral, and we should have cherished the simple pleasures of youth while we could?

Thanks, now that I am a geeze, that is some very helpful advice.

Anonymous said...

That was so well written, so cleverly written...I am speechless.

Amy L. Hanna said...

Welcome to summer, Erin!

josh williams said...

The whole end of space puzzles me. I think of infinity as something that does not end which does not end by definition. But when I look at my collection of corsets...Me thinks maybe it should.
What lays past infinity is cool stuff like bottomless beer steins and free crispy bacon and enough cigarettes to keep every attorney on our big blue marble employed for an infinite period of time, or I should say forever and then some.
So what was your post about?

Anonymous said...

there is no end or beginning to space. or time. or consciousness.
(damned Mayas!)

this is summer for chrissakes; stop hittin' us with this quantum-mechanics/superstring theory shite.

Anonymous said...

uh...that should read MAYANS.
(damned editors!)

dean said...

I love that last paragraph.

Jarvis Rockhall said...

Clearly, that mud-hole is a result of nuclear proliferation.

I mean really, isn't it obvious?

Erin, you need to get the IAEA down there, stat!

Diane Vogel Ferri said...

Love it, just love it.