Gather 'round children, it's story time!
Before we get things started, this is a direct copy of my first draft, and like Hemingway said, "All first drafts are shit," but I figured I should share something to prove I'm still writing. All typos and inconsistencies are intact, including the boy's name changing from Tyler to Travis and back a number of times. I've already got a list of changes for the story, so if you want to add some edits, feel free to tear it apart, now without further ado...
Playground Pals
Trying to teach my son how to fly a kite was proving to be much harder than I thought. It came down to the fact that I knew nothing about flying a kite myself. I believed it's one of those moments that a child has to experience.
I was running, the kite bobbing behind me, neither catching the wind or crashing to the ground. My son, Tyler, struggled to keep up. He was trying to coax the kite into the air yelling, "Fly kite, fly!" He kept throwing his hands in the air, hoping the visual cue would be enough to get the kite to fly.
I gave up, coming to a stop and the kite fell to the ground. It was a kite in the shape of a stealth fighter jet. Tyler picked it out himself, a product of that time where every boy falls in love with machines of war. I reminded myself to cut down on his tv time and try to figure out just what his mother is allowing him to watch. That discussion will not end well.
Tyler looked up at me with the disappointed eyes of a four year old. "The kite won't fly, daddy."
I couldn't tell him the truth. There were other people around doing just fine at flying their kites. I was the only parent around who was failing at such a seemingly easy task.
We stood over the kite, regarding it like it was roadkill. Luckily Travis was disappointed in the kite, not being able to realize that the error was not with the kite but his father's inability to run with string.
I was prepared to console him for the rest of the afternoon. I had a speech at the ready if he wanted to know why it made him sad that the kite wouldn't fly. I had one if he found it unfair that all of the other kids had proper kites and proper parents, and wanted to know why his was so defective.
No speech was needed. He caught site of Tara scaling the jungle gym. The two of them had become playground pals in recent days. They met because Tara had trapped a grasshopper in her cupped hands and Tyler wanted to see it. Their mutual love of insects had now escalated into daily grasshopper hunts and a myriad of other playground games.
The first day they met, when they had finished playing, Travis ran up to me particularly excited.
"Daddy, I made a friend." I put my hand up for a high five and he slapped my hand. "She's a girl, her name is Tara, and she likes bugs."
I was envious. My son was having his first harmless crush and his standards didn't have to go any higher than the fact that she was female and shared his passion for bugs. I wished things were that simple for me, that I didn't have to find a woman who could handle a single father, who enjoys watching Disney movies and listening to sing-a-long tapes in the van. The hardest part was finding a woman who could handle being picked up for a date by a man in a minivan.
Travis went from disappointment at the kite failure to elation at the sight of his playground friend. I was surprised at how quickly minor disappointments could be forgotten. To him there was no time to feel bad about the kite, there were bugs to be caught.
He looked at me with excitement, doing a nervous dance not unlike the one he does when he has to use the bathroom.
"Sure buddy, you can go and play. Just stay where I can see you." He ran off for Tara, leaving me at the kite crash site. I picked up the kite by its cheap plastic frame and went to my usual spot at a bench facing the playground.
I propped my feet up on the stroller as if to say that yes, I am a man at a playground sitting by himself, but I have a child and you have no need to be alarmed.
Tyler and Tara made off on their bug hunt. They pretended to be explorers, brave adventurers seeking out the elusive grasshopper. If no grasshoppers were around, anthills and spiders made fine substitutes.
When the bug hunt eventually got old they pretended the large wooden playground set was a pirate ship, Tyler the brave young hero fighting imaginary pirates with an imaginary sword to capture the captive Tara. My son got to be the hero and save the girl, I hoped his entire life would be able to be summed up like that.
Time for snacks came and went. I didn't want to bother Tyler, he seemed to be having so much fun and I didn't have the heart to interrupt his rescue mission. I knew that the fate of Tara was of far greater importance to him than measly snack time.
The mission was a success. Tara was no longer held captive by the pirates. Captivity meant wrapping her arms around the sliding pole on the playground. The rule was she could not let go for the pirate chains were virtually impossible to break free from without the help of a dashing young hero.
Even I was getting caught up in the excitement. I wanted to stand up and cheer when he saved her. I had been on my fair share of exciting dates but I wouldn't be able to use swashbuckling as a word to describe any of them.
Tyler came toward me once the game was over. He was holding hands with her, the latest evolution of their playground romance. She would become the first girl to break his heart but luckily it's something he will forget in later years. It all ended a week later when in a freak accident Tyler kills one of the bugs they are studying. Some things are unforgivable.
"Daddy, we wanna get married."
I was hoping that I would have at least another twenty years with my son before he wanted to marry.
"Does Tara's mommy know about this?"
Tara, hiding behind Tyler, slowly shook her head. The look on Tyler's face was the same as when the kite wouldn't fly. I could see that he thought that this too would end in disappointment.
"Tara, where is your mommy at?"
Tara pointed to a woman sitting on the other side of the playground. She had a book in her hands, probably the only time she can find to get a few pages of reading in.
"Let's go talk to your mom, if she says it's okay you can get married." Tyler went from depressed to ecstatic. He grabbed my hand, pulling me and Tara to Tara's mother.
Tara's mom wore the normal playground mom outfit. An oversized t-shirt, ill fitting jeans. Her hair was a bit frizzy, but yet she didn't look like a playground mom. Mostly because I had never seen a playground mom read a book. Her legs were crossed and her pant leg hiked up just enough to show a little stubble on her leg. It was understandable, who has time for shaving when you're chasing a 4 year old around? I went to speak but my eyes noticed that there was no ring on her finger. I wanted to do the same dance that Tyler did before. I wondered if she likes bugs.
"Sorry to bother you, but my son, you see he was saving your daughter from pirates who had taken her captive. Now it seems they want to get married and I thought I'd get your opinion."
Tara and Tyler were bouncing with nervousness. Tara let out a long, "Please, mom." Tyler followed up with a, "Please, Tara's mommy." In what I can only describe as my subconscious playing a prank on me, I chimed in with a whiny, "Please, Tara's mommy." A knot worked its way into my stomach and I was hit with embarrassment.
"At least Tara had the decency to let me meet the family before she got married. Okay honey, you two are married now."
Tara and Tyler cheered, jumping up and down with newlywed elation. They ran to the jungle gym, calling it their home. Tara's mom patted the empty space on the bench, "Sit, I'd like to meet the father-in-law."
I sat. I tried to relax, but my mind refused to let up. She must have thought my "Please, Tara's mommy," was an immature mess. "My four year old son wants to marry your four year old daughter" had to be the worst pick up line in history.
"Nancy," she said, holding out her hand.
"William, call me Will." I took her hand, shook it lightly. Her hands were small and surprisingly smooth. I found myself as a four year old. I was tempted to catch a grasshopper and present it to her as a gift.
"That's cute what you did. Not many fathers around here get caught up in their kid's imaginations."
"Ever since his mom left I fell like I owe it to him. She just sits him in front of the television."
"Where is she?"
"Vacationing with her boyfriend. He's taking her camping. He's in for a surprise. What about your husband?"
"He's married to his work, he's also getting married to my until recently best friend. Who knew I married a polygamist?"
I wanted to tell her that I wanted to be a dad even before Tyler was born. That I'm not her ex-husband, that I know exactly how she feels. Naturally I wanted to do what I always do, scare her away by smothering her as quick as possible.
"Tara and Tyler get along well," I was trying to steer the conversation away from my normal self-destructive path.
"I hate to say it but she's a little heartbreaker. I give them a week."
"She takes after her father?"
"So much it scares me."
Slowly I worked my way out of my four year old shell. I started to feel like an adult again, albeit an adult with a major crush.
"Know what would really get them going? If they got to hang out away from the playground. Tyler would be so happy. Do you two have any plans for dinner?" That's when I dropped the atom bomb. Hi, we've only known each other for five minutes and already I want you and your daughter to come over for dinner.
"What did you have in mind?" She has to be toying with me the way a cat will bat a mouse around before delivering the fatal bite.
"My place for dinner. I can cook while the kids play.
"So you're a single father heavily invested in the well being of his kid, and you also cook? You're not real, you're in cahoots with unicorns and bigfoot, are you a hallucination?"
At this point my ego was big enough that it could get into a fight with Godzilla and have decent odds of winning.
"I'm real, I hope."
"We were just going to have grilled cheese sandwiches and watch the Little Mermaid for the fiftieth time."
"I love that Under the Sea song."
"I'm sorry, which of you is the child?"
"The line blurs." If she was to keep it up I would have kissed her then and there.
"We'll go home. I'll get changed, and then we'll come over, sound good?"
"Yes, perfect." She dug through a giant bag attached to the stroller and produced a pen. We exchanged numbers, writing them on the back of our hands. She called Tara from the jungle gym house. Tyler dragged behind, kicking dirt with every step. He knew this was the time when the fun stops and they would have to part.
"Tara, would you like to go to Tyler's house for dinner?" Nancy brushed dirt off of Tara's clothes.
Tara lit up. Tyler looked so happy I could have sworn he was about to cry. I'm sure I looked the same.
"It's a playdate," I said, smiling like a fool.
"It's definitely a date," She said with the same smile.
Before we get things started, this is a direct copy of my first draft, and like Hemingway said, "All first drafts are shit," but I figured I should share something to prove I'm still writing. All typos and inconsistencies are intact, including the boy's name changing from Tyler to Travis and back a number of times. I've already got a list of changes for the story, so if you want to add some edits, feel free to tear it apart, now without further ado...
Playground Pals
Trying to teach my son how to fly a kite was proving to be much harder than I thought. It came down to the fact that I knew nothing about flying a kite myself. I believed it's one of those moments that a child has to experience.
I was running, the kite bobbing behind me, neither catching the wind or crashing to the ground. My son, Tyler, struggled to keep up. He was trying to coax the kite into the air yelling, "Fly kite, fly!" He kept throwing his hands in the air, hoping the visual cue would be enough to get the kite to fly.
I gave up, coming to a stop and the kite fell to the ground. It was a kite in the shape of a stealth fighter jet. Tyler picked it out himself, a product of that time where every boy falls in love with machines of war. I reminded myself to cut down on his tv time and try to figure out just what his mother is allowing him to watch. That discussion will not end well.
Tyler looked up at me with the disappointed eyes of a four year old. "The kite won't fly, daddy."
I couldn't tell him the truth. There were other people around doing just fine at flying their kites. I was the only parent around who was failing at such a seemingly easy task.
We stood over the kite, regarding it like it was roadkill. Luckily Travis was disappointed in the kite, not being able to realize that the error was not with the kite but his father's inability to run with string.
I was prepared to console him for the rest of the afternoon. I had a speech at the ready if he wanted to know why it made him sad that the kite wouldn't fly. I had one if he found it unfair that all of the other kids had proper kites and proper parents, and wanted to know why his was so defective.
No speech was needed. He caught site of Tara scaling the jungle gym. The two of them had become playground pals in recent days. They met because Tara had trapped a grasshopper in her cupped hands and Tyler wanted to see it. Their mutual love of insects had now escalated into daily grasshopper hunts and a myriad of other playground games.
The first day they met, when they had finished playing, Travis ran up to me particularly excited.
"Daddy, I made a friend." I put my hand up for a high five and he slapped my hand. "She's a girl, her name is Tara, and she likes bugs."
I was envious. My son was having his first harmless crush and his standards didn't have to go any higher than the fact that she was female and shared his passion for bugs. I wished things were that simple for me, that I didn't have to find a woman who could handle a single father, who enjoys watching Disney movies and listening to sing-a-long tapes in the van. The hardest part was finding a woman who could handle being picked up for a date by a man in a minivan.
Travis went from disappointment at the kite failure to elation at the sight of his playground friend. I was surprised at how quickly minor disappointments could be forgotten. To him there was no time to feel bad about the kite, there were bugs to be caught.
He looked at me with excitement, doing a nervous dance not unlike the one he does when he has to use the bathroom.
"Sure buddy, you can go and play. Just stay where I can see you." He ran off for Tara, leaving me at the kite crash site. I picked up the kite by its cheap plastic frame and went to my usual spot at a bench facing the playground.
I propped my feet up on the stroller as if to say that yes, I am a man at a playground sitting by himself, but I have a child and you have no need to be alarmed.
Tyler and Tara made off on their bug hunt. They pretended to be explorers, brave adventurers seeking out the elusive grasshopper. If no grasshoppers were around, anthills and spiders made fine substitutes.
When the bug hunt eventually got old they pretended the large wooden playground set was a pirate ship, Tyler the brave young hero fighting imaginary pirates with an imaginary sword to capture the captive Tara. My son got to be the hero and save the girl, I hoped his entire life would be able to be summed up like that.
Time for snacks came and went. I didn't want to bother Tyler, he seemed to be having so much fun and I didn't have the heart to interrupt his rescue mission. I knew that the fate of Tara was of far greater importance to him than measly snack time.
The mission was a success. Tara was no longer held captive by the pirates. Captivity meant wrapping her arms around the sliding pole on the playground. The rule was she could not let go for the pirate chains were virtually impossible to break free from without the help of a dashing young hero.
Even I was getting caught up in the excitement. I wanted to stand up and cheer when he saved her. I had been on my fair share of exciting dates but I wouldn't be able to use swashbuckling as a word to describe any of them.
Tyler came toward me once the game was over. He was holding hands with her, the latest evolution of their playground romance. She would become the first girl to break his heart but luckily it's something he will forget in later years. It all ended a week later when in a freak accident Tyler kills one of the bugs they are studying. Some things are unforgivable.
"Daddy, we wanna get married."
I was hoping that I would have at least another twenty years with my son before he wanted to marry.
"Does Tara's mommy know about this?"
Tara, hiding behind Tyler, slowly shook her head. The look on Tyler's face was the same as when the kite wouldn't fly. I could see that he thought that this too would end in disappointment.
"Tara, where is your mommy at?"
Tara pointed to a woman sitting on the other side of the playground. She had a book in her hands, probably the only time she can find to get a few pages of reading in.
"Let's go talk to your mom, if she says it's okay you can get married." Tyler went from depressed to ecstatic. He grabbed my hand, pulling me and Tara to Tara's mother.
Tara's mom wore the normal playground mom outfit. An oversized t-shirt, ill fitting jeans. Her hair was a bit frizzy, but yet she didn't look like a playground mom. Mostly because I had never seen a playground mom read a book. Her legs were crossed and her pant leg hiked up just enough to show a little stubble on her leg. It was understandable, who has time for shaving when you're chasing a 4 year old around? I went to speak but my eyes noticed that there was no ring on her finger. I wanted to do the same dance that Tyler did before. I wondered if she likes bugs.
"Sorry to bother you, but my son, you see he was saving your daughter from pirates who had taken her captive. Now it seems they want to get married and I thought I'd get your opinion."
Tara and Tyler were bouncing with nervousness. Tara let out a long, "Please, mom." Tyler followed up with a, "Please, Tara's mommy." In what I can only describe as my subconscious playing a prank on me, I chimed in with a whiny, "Please, Tara's mommy." A knot worked its way into my stomach and I was hit with embarrassment.
"At least Tara had the decency to let me meet the family before she got married. Okay honey, you two are married now."
Tara and Tyler cheered, jumping up and down with newlywed elation. They ran to the jungle gym, calling it their home. Tara's mom patted the empty space on the bench, "Sit, I'd like to meet the father-in-law."
I sat. I tried to relax, but my mind refused to let up. She must have thought my "Please, Tara's mommy," was an immature mess. "My four year old son wants to marry your four year old daughter" had to be the worst pick up line in history.
"Nancy," she said, holding out her hand.
"William, call me Will." I took her hand, shook it lightly. Her hands were small and surprisingly smooth. I found myself as a four year old. I was tempted to catch a grasshopper and present it to her as a gift.
"That's cute what you did. Not many fathers around here get caught up in their kid's imaginations."
"Ever since his mom left I fell like I owe it to him. She just sits him in front of the television."
"Where is she?"
"Vacationing with her boyfriend. He's taking her camping. He's in for a surprise. What about your husband?"
"He's married to his work, he's also getting married to my until recently best friend. Who knew I married a polygamist?"
I wanted to tell her that I wanted to be a dad even before Tyler was born. That I'm not her ex-husband, that I know exactly how she feels. Naturally I wanted to do what I always do, scare her away by smothering her as quick as possible.
"Tara and Tyler get along well," I was trying to steer the conversation away from my normal self-destructive path.
"I hate to say it but she's a little heartbreaker. I give them a week."
"She takes after her father?"
"So much it scares me."
Slowly I worked my way out of my four year old shell. I started to feel like an adult again, albeit an adult with a major crush.
"Know what would really get them going? If they got to hang out away from the playground. Tyler would be so happy. Do you two have any plans for dinner?" That's when I dropped the atom bomb. Hi, we've only known each other for five minutes and already I want you and your daughter to come over for dinner.
"What did you have in mind?" She has to be toying with me the way a cat will bat a mouse around before delivering the fatal bite.
"My place for dinner. I can cook while the kids play.
"So you're a single father heavily invested in the well being of his kid, and you also cook? You're not real, you're in cahoots with unicorns and bigfoot, are you a hallucination?"
At this point my ego was big enough that it could get into a fight with Godzilla and have decent odds of winning.
"I'm real, I hope."
"We were just going to have grilled cheese sandwiches and watch the Little Mermaid for the fiftieth time."
"I love that Under the Sea song."
"I'm sorry, which of you is the child?"
"The line blurs." If she was to keep it up I would have kissed her then and there.
"We'll go home. I'll get changed, and then we'll come over, sound good?"
"Yes, perfect." She dug through a giant bag attached to the stroller and produced a pen. We exchanged numbers, writing them on the back of our hands. She called Tara from the jungle gym house. Tyler dragged behind, kicking dirt with every step. He knew this was the time when the fun stops and they would have to part.
"Tara, would you like to go to Tyler's house for dinner?" Nancy brushed dirt off of Tara's clothes.
Tara lit up. Tyler looked so happy I could have sworn he was about to cry. I'm sure I looked the same.
"It's a playdate," I said, smiling like a fool.
"It's definitely a date," She said with the same smile.