Yesterday Taylor won a stereo from the library’s summer reading program. In the five weeks of the program he had read 38 books. He should be thanking me for the technological grounding he’s had this summer, without which, he would doubtless have played many games of HALO and read few books.
On our way home we heard a shout of “Christopher!” which we ignored. Again: “Christopher!” It was our neighbor, “X,” and I realized she was talking to Taylor.
Silly me, I forgot that that’s his actual name.
I have a bit of a jaded past with “X.”
To make a short story long, last year a woman, “C,” came into our office and asked us to sign her petition to be on the ballot to run for our small town’s village board.
My boss and I signed it.
A few weeks later a long standing member of the village board, my neighbor “X,” came by to ask about our signatures. She was contesting the signed petitions of “C.”
My signature looks like a big scribble; her contention was that I only signed the last half of my hyphenated last name. I told her that was my correct signature and she handed me a piece of paper and asked me to sign it so that she could see.
Disapprovingly, she also informed that: “You are one of only eight people in the village with a hyphenated name.”
She also admonished my boss “You don’t live within the village limits, you shouldn’t have signed this!” M. said, “Well, we have village water.” “X:” “The village LET you have city water, despite being OUTSIDE the limits.”
And one time she complained to the village about the “weeds” behind our garage. Um, those “weeds” came in a packet entitled “wild flowers.”
Back to yesterday, she was calling Taylor/Christopher’s name to inform him that she won him in the football players auction at the fair and is now entitled to eight hours of his labor.
And she needs him to come and weed her garden before an open house she is hosting for “our next Congressional Representative.”