So yesterday I was sitting out on my back porch pondering the meaning of life over coffee, and a tiny little boy was walking a big dog on a leash behind my townhouse. He lit up my heart. He came up to the screen and smashed his nose against it and introduced himself as Deacon. We had a high 'ol time talking about aliens and sharks and stuff.... he just moved into the neighborhood. He asked me how old I am.. "43," I said. He is 7. He said, "That's okay, I've always had older friends...you're invited to play at my house any time. We can make aliens." Anyway.... that was yesterday.

I'm working at home today and I heard aggressive banging on the front door downstairs and ding-dong, ding-dong. My 18 year son answered it just as I was coming down the stairs. It was Deacon, whom Kevin hadn't met yet. "Hi. Is your mom home?" And Kevin said, "What do you need?" and Deacon said, "It's OK, she's my friend. I'm here to see if she can come out and play." Both Kevin and I snickered. How cahute can a kid get?

I told Deacon I had sooooooooo much work to do at home and couldn't play. He said, "Can you give your son permission to come out and play then?" Kevin was doing homework...but we said we'd see him around and maybe he could find some little kids in the neighborhood who didn't have work to do. He skipped off, jolly happy and sweet and not at all disappointed.