Why I Love My Town: Reason 1

It seems that one of the most widely accepted truisms today is that kids can't just be kids anymore. They can't run wild from dawn until dusk; strangers can't be trusted, and you just don't know what trouble they'll get into unsupervised. They're never outside playing. And their imaginations are sorely lacking.

I present to you Case Study #1: The Little Boys.

Our backyard connects with the backyard directly behind us. There are no fences in this town--at least none that I've seen. The family that lives behind us has 4 boys: a 6th grader, a 3rd grader, a 2nd grader, and a 1st grader. Or The Little Boys, as Tim and I have dubbed them. They defy all of the above truisms. They run absolutely wild from dawn until dusk, and sometimes beyond. They certainly do get into trouble unsupervised, but the nice thing about a town of 70 people (very soon to be 71) is that they rarely are actually unsupervised--one of us always kind of has an eye on them. They are always outside playing, and by always I mean always. In fact, I don't think the 1st grader wore shoes the entire summer. No seriously; I can't think of a single time I saw him with them on. And their imaginations are always going.

Take this morning for example. Tim and I are sitting at breakfast, in our usual spots: me facing our neighbors to the south, Tim facing our neighbors to the east, which happens to be the Little Boys. We're eating quietly, when I hear from Tim, "What in the...what are they doing?!" I lean over the table (no easy feat 5 days before your due date) just in time to witness a bizarre spectacle; Jaydn and Isaiah (the 2nd and 1st grader, respectively) are busy tying a gigantic rope between their two bikes. The rope is about 14 feet long and about as thick as a couple of gas hoses. Isaiah still has no shoes on. When they've accomplished the task of connecting the two bikes, each boy slings a green reusable shopping bag over a skinny shoulder, and off they go.

Tim bursts out laughing. When they round the corner in front of our house a few minutes later, they've gotten the rope tangled in Isaiah's tire and have to haul the bikes over to the side of the road to avoid a grain truck. "Go ask them what they're doing," Tim urges. "It's bound to be a good story!" 

So I grab my cup of coffee and tromp outside in my pj's (reason #2 why I love this town). As soon as I get outside, I get a cheerful wave from Isaiah and a shy smile from Jaydn.  "Alright," I say when I get close enough, "You've got your bikes tied together and a shopping bag on each shoulder. I gotta know; what are you doing?" 

"We're pulling each other on our bikes," Jaydn explains solemnly. 

"Yeah, and we've had a couple of crashes, too!" Isaiah adds cheerfully, as if that explains the purpose of connecting the two bikes. "And the shopping bags we found in the road." He displays his proudly, Menards tag still attached. 

I rip off the tag for him, and by the time that's done, the rope's been untangled and they're ready to go. Isaiah starts off, pulling Jaydn behind him. As they go, I get a couple of happy waves, and then I hear Jaydn start his motor car impression, the one that you can hear a couple of blocks away; "Vrrruuuuuuhhh, vruh, vruh, vruuuuuuuhhhh!"

Tim just laughs and shakes his head when I tell him their logical explanation for their behavior. As I watch them make their wobbly way down the road, I can't help but smile and think, "That's why I love this town."  Then as I turn to make my way back into the house, another thought makes me freeze.

"God help us when they get their licenses!"