In hopes of changing me into a normal human 8 to 10 year old boy, my mother organizes ‘play-dates’ and ‘sleep-overs’ for me.
When the mothers of the invited children meet me for the first time the conversation inevitably revolves around how shy I am.
As I stare silently into the distance I think, “I’m not shy, I just don’t want to talk to you.”
Despite falling asleep in bed, the other kids usually wake up in the middle of the night stunned and on the floor with mild pain in their lower backs resulting from the not to gentle nudge I apply with my foot.
I stay awake. How can I be expected to sleep with strange children in my bedroom?
This is the second time that Nigel has been allowed by his mother to spend the night sleeping at my house. He is a favorite of mine.
He always looks so confused scrambling back into his bed after I kick him out of it. I keep my eyes closed; pretending to be asleep.
Joel is afraid of being pushed too high on the swing. He jumps off at the wrong time and ends up in the middle of the thorny rose bush. My grandfather and I laugh.
After picking thorns out of him his parents do not allow him to sleep over at my house again. This leaves me with more time alone to work on my experiments with scalpels and electronics.