Sitting at the park as the dogs and babies play, a car pulls up, and a little white haired neighbor climbs out. She comes to the fence and greets the dogs. She lingers for just a moment, enticing us with a look combining wisdom and sass.
We walk over.
“Ya know, my kids used to play at this park. And then my grandkids. I can’t believe my grandkids are all grown now. They used to have swings, but the big kids kept destroying them. I just love the little ones,” she says as she pinches my daughter’s cheek.
“I like the high schoolers though too. They’re funny. I taught over at the high school ya know. If you’re sweet to them, they’re sweet back. Like this one kid. He was mad. Said his uncle was gonna come to the school with a shotgun. But he told his uncle not to shoot Ms. Parsons. And I said, ‘Well, fa pity’s sake, ya betta take a picture, ’cause I’ve never met ya uncle!’
Or another kid. He was mad ’cause he had to shave to go to school. And I told him I was mad too but I did it anyway. He said, ‘Yea, but you don’t have a mustache.’ And I said, ‘Yea, ’cause I shave!'”