Saturday, August 13, 2011

Friday Morning in the Summer.

There was all this screaming behind our home this morning.  Like a herd of children turned loose with a bowl of sugar cereal and some redpunch.   It dissipated into the morning stillness over the soccer fields behind our deck and a misty morning serenity slowly returned.   Except for one kid.   That kid was really having a great time enjoying its freedom.    Repeated intervals of screaming, whoops and hollers caused me to mosey out on the balcony to have a look.   Bubba the parrot slept out there last night.   Because of the great weather we had allowed the doors to remain open and the cats were roaming in and out at will during the evening hours while we slept.    The cats decided to follow me out.  I greeted Bubba and he answered me "Hello, Stick em up." The parrot spotted the kitten, "Stop it." he scolded the cat.   I sipped some coffee and directed my gaze toward the sounds.    

There is a church across the athletic fields, the Community Rec Center has an athletic field there too.   But that is not where this maniac kid was.   It was in the little park the community constructed.   They have swings and junk over there I think and that is where the kid was.   Now the one kid was in full stride Whooping and Screaming over and over and over.  Maybe it was a summer camp outing.   It is a beautiful day, a Friday and just perfect to let the little bastards blow off some steam and get their energy levels depleted a little.   This kid was still going strong.   Now and then one of the other kids screams would join this one noisy kid's voice but they were mostly quiet.    As I looked across the dry grass the small group of kids and two or three adults came into view under the trees in the  community area.   They seemed as if it was a summer school program or a church group, we have a LOT of that here, out to take in the scene and get a breath of fresh air.   The children were following one adult who was moving away from the forested area and getting closer to the open soccer fields.   Another adult was bringing up the rear and herding the reluctant children along when I saw The Hyper Kid.   THK was running concentric circles around the adult leading the group he darted in and out of the cluster of children as a comet orbiting a solar system.   This kid was on it.   

It became evident that the shouts that accompanied  THK were not attempts at harmony but actually protests and shrieks of dismay as he swooped in to harass any stragglers from the pack of kids.   THK was determined to attack one child per circuit as a rogue asteroid might do to communications satellites.   They were standing at the edge of the field when the lead adult grabbed THK.  He took him by the shoulders and rotated THK around to face the goal net far across the fields.   The adult pointed,  THK looked off into the distance and sighted the white support and the net it held.   The adult pointed, let go and THK took off running across the two adjacent soccer fields toward the farthest net.   The two adults cheered and they encouraged the other children to raise their voices too.   THK was streaking past the center line screaming the whole time "AAAAHHHHHHAAAAAHHHHHH".  He was past the first field in no time.   The group yelled for him to go faster.   He went faster.   THK was really flying now.   They yelled more.    I could hear them,   "Yay Hyper Kid!"   He reached the goal net but he didn't stop, THK circled the goal box at full speed and volume and came running back.   The cheering continued as lead adult moved to intercept THK before he got back to the group.   THK showed no signs of fatigue in the legs or vocal cords.   As he almost reached the assembled pack of humans, the lead adult, now twenty feet in front of the group of children,  huddled together for safety, started making a circular motion with his arm as if he were twirling a lasso.   THK knew exactly what to do.   He rounded the guy and headed off to the other end of the field again, still screaming and now waving both arms above his head and yelling like some kind of demented shaved monkey, shrieking in full gallop attacking a pile of bananas.   The other kids hopped and cheered as THK swerved from their direction.   

THK made another round trip between the goals.   He began to tire.  His arms drooped below his shoulders.   His shrieks became less frequent.   It almost seemed that his speed was slightly diminished.    The third trip began to have the desired effect.   Both adults were trying to spur THK to continue but he was definitely running out of fuel.   At the end of his fourth orbit THK flopped to the ground in front of the assembled group, arched his back and with one huge scream and a spasm of his arms and legs he lay spread eagle on the grass facing the sky.  The group, sensing the end, turned in unison and slowly moved away.

So parents, please give your kid his medicine in the summer too.   Even if it is Friday and even if it's the other parents weekend.

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