It’s Not All Mary Poppins

Irresistable Force, meet Immovable Object. Just don’t expect it to come to dinner.

“Want to come to my house on the weekend?” Malli lifts her gaze from the playdough on the table in front of them, presses her forehead against Nigel’s.

He sits up straighter. Their foreheads peel apart. “I don’t know.”

“My mommy will make us playdough.” It’s a good bribe. They love playdough, these two.

“Maybe. I might have a tummy ache, though.”

——

“Want to come over to my house tonight?”

“My mommy is driving, and she drives too slow.”

—–

“Want to have dinner at my house?”

“No, I don’t like the food there.”

—-

“We could play fire engine at my house.”

“Maybe my daddy will say fire engine is not good for little boys and girls.”

—–

“I have a playhouse at my house. Want to play in my playhouse?”

“I think I have to go to my gramma’s then.”

—-

You have to admire the girl’s persistance. I wonder at his reluctance. They play all day with nary a ruffle. Perhaps enough is enough? Perhaps he’s just a homebody? Maybe he doesn’t like to take work home?

Whatever it is, Nigel has stood firm against a campaign of some weeks’ duration. Normally I inform parents when children are making social plans, so that the parents can support them if they choose. In this case, I think I’ll leave well eough alone. If Nigel wants to go to Malli’s house, he can take it up with his parents!

—-

“You can play with my brothers at my house.”

“That’s okay. I have a brother at my house anyway.”

The campaign continues …

April 4, 2008 Posted by | Malli, Nigel, quirks and quirkiness, socializing | 7 Comments