Lindemans Bin 65 and a vase of pretty daisies
It is your lucky day, only because I apparently feel the need to interrupt myself and blog prolifically (compared to my normal posting) about this and that today. I don't know if that really makes you lucky or not, but if you're looking for a momentary diversion, here I am.
Anyhow, I stopped at the grocery on the way home. I needed milk and bagels, but I ended up with a new toothbrush, a bottle of wine, and a bouquet of daisies, among a few other things. I think the Lindemans Bin 65 is an excellent, yet inexpensive chardonnay, so I opened it in celebration of a successful post-lazy-weekend Monday.
As I was driving down my street earlier, I passed my neighbor boys playing basketball. It's a beautiful evening, and I thought I might take Milo for a walk. I was bringing in my groceries when the 16-year-old boy from two doors down brought my mail to the door. He seems to always find excuses to stop by, usually to ask if he can take my trash to the corner or some other helpful chore. He's a sweet kid, but he tends to invade my personal space and make me a bit nervous. I try to be patient as he is mildly autistic, and I understand that he may not be aware of appropriate space issues (or that I am a bit of a freak about them!). While he is much bigger than I am, I don't fear for my personal safety with him, but I do get uncomfortable when he is here. I'm about as socially outgoing as a person can be, but I am very private - fiercely so -about my home and my "space." I allowed him inside, and thanked him for bringing the mail, and I proceeded to put away groceries while he stood in the entryway, played with Milo and chatted with me. I then noticed that he had moved down the hall and was peering with acute interest into my bedroom,which is not too far from the kitchen.
I don't know what to think about him. I am certain that he has been in my house at some point while I was not here, and I know that his mother (who is a good friend of the owner of this house) has a key. Earlier this winter, I found footprints in the snow that led around my house to the backyard and windows facing the yard. I am sure that he is nothing more than a young boy who may have a bit of a teenage crush on the girl next door, but I just don't know quite how to handle the situation. I haven't wanted to call his mother (who I have only met once very briefly) on pure speculation that her autistic son is looking into my windows or coming into the house, but he seems to know an awful lot about what goes on here when I'm not home. Additionally, a few of my underthings came up missing a few weeks ago, which should have triggered absolute insanity on my part (because of the whole privacy thing), but I still did not want to think that he had anything to do with what I might have misplaced or lost in the dryer that eats my socks. I look at him, and I simultaneously want to save his sweet self from any harm or teasing or bullying that I am sure he endures at his public school; yet on the other hand, I am concerned that perhaps he is acting out inappropriately. I do think, however, that it would be in his best interest at this point if I visited his mother and got to know her a bit better, and maybe asked for a sit-down at her kitchen table with a cup of coffee in the near future.
But for now, I am sitting here with a glass of wine and an obnoxious laundry list of things that need to be done tonight.
Anyhow, I stopped at the grocery on the way home. I needed milk and bagels, but I ended up with a new toothbrush, a bottle of wine, and a bouquet of daisies, among a few other things. I think the Lindemans Bin 65 is an excellent, yet inexpensive chardonnay, so I opened it in celebration of a successful post-lazy-weekend Monday.
As I was driving down my street earlier, I passed my neighbor boys playing basketball. It's a beautiful evening, and I thought I might take Milo for a walk. I was bringing in my groceries when the 16-year-old boy from two doors down brought my mail to the door. He seems to always find excuses to stop by, usually to ask if he can take my trash to the corner or some other helpful chore. He's a sweet kid, but he tends to invade my personal space and make me a bit nervous. I try to be patient as he is mildly autistic, and I understand that he may not be aware of appropriate space issues (or that I am a bit of a freak about them!). While he is much bigger than I am, I don't fear for my personal safety with him, but I do get uncomfortable when he is here. I'm about as socially outgoing as a person can be, but I am very private - fiercely so -about my home and my "space." I allowed him inside, and thanked him for bringing the mail, and I proceeded to put away groceries while he stood in the entryway, played with Milo and chatted with me. I then noticed that he had moved down the hall and was peering with acute interest into my bedroom,which is not too far from the kitchen.
I don't know what to think about him. I am certain that he has been in my house at some point while I was not here, and I know that his mother (who is a good friend of the owner of this house) has a key. Earlier this winter, I found footprints in the snow that led around my house to the backyard and windows facing the yard. I am sure that he is nothing more than a young boy who may have a bit of a teenage crush on the girl next door, but I just don't know quite how to handle the situation. I haven't wanted to call his mother (who I have only met once very briefly) on pure speculation that her autistic son is looking into my windows or coming into the house, but he seems to know an awful lot about what goes on here when I'm not home. Additionally, a few of my underthings came up missing a few weeks ago, which should have triggered absolute insanity on my part (because of the whole privacy thing), but I still did not want to think that he had anything to do with what I might have misplaced or lost in the dryer that eats my socks. I look at him, and I simultaneously want to save his sweet self from any harm or teasing or bullying that I am sure he endures at his public school; yet on the other hand, I am concerned that perhaps he is acting out inappropriately. I do think, however, that it would be in his best interest at this point if I visited his mother and got to know her a bit better, and maybe asked for a sit-down at her kitchen table with a cup of coffee in the near future.
But for now, I am sitting here with a glass of wine and an obnoxious laundry list of things that need to be done tonight.
posted by Amanda at 8:19 PM
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