Thursday, July 10, 2014

Oddie and Arrin (Addie and Orrin)


There's Addie, a wee graduate. 
There's Orrin, the O-man. 

This is simply a nostalgic post, after finding every moment I could set down and run over to the house next door with the drooliest beast and his friends (these are the dogs) who guard the door and extensive amounts of leaping geckos, spotted lizards, and scurrying miniature prehistoric beasts. I would hear screams before I even got inside, they would waft out the screen door, one would be from Addie for Coco and another would be Orrin having a shout because he could! Swimsuits and life-jackets later 

we were swimming, or leaping, or kicking like mermaids, or playing tag strictly in the shallow area, throwing each other all about racing to the side of the pool, climbing out and opening our arms leaping out stomachs aimed for the water because you can always belly flop when you are wearing a padded life jacket. 
More screams let every neighbor know, this is FUN! 

Then when Dillon gets back from work (warning: quintessential family scenario ahead) he hops in the pool and soon there are whirlpools and Erik is flipping up and in too, Orrin gets more deliriously joyful, sometimes jealous and sometimes enraged but these emotions are fleeting mostly and if not we can talk to him and then 
we are in a black flatbed truck with surf and paddle boards bouncing in the back and I Spy is occurring, Addie always smacks her hands and flings a hand motion towards you when you get it right. I taught her to shoot little guns with her fingers, to clap and clap, which is much more darling on her than on me. 
Finally we reach a bay we can take them out in, and we do and its wild horses racing down the waves as fast as they can be picked up, or survivors shipwrecked trying to stroke those lazy turtles that 
Breathe 
sporadically across the face of waves. Feet in the water tingle dramatically as if at that very second they were being eyed like some delicious entree but Oman and Ads are perched far enough on the front of the boards that I don't fret. (even nannies fret). 

Addie loves to demand the horse to go "FASTER FASTER" and then in that critical moment when the wave catches under the feet of the surfboard the screams get higher and higher and I'm barely paddling because my arms are useless to laughter brigades. Completely helpless to all of that. 

And any perfect surf sesh deserves a slushee even for the naughtiest nymph and goblin, or if they were especially good you get a F'Real as an option. I was sometimes so good I got a F'real, for real. 
We all get back in the Sister Walls, Dill's pickup, and cruise down the highway with the two silliest, squirmiest, funniest, gorgeousest babies on the North Shore just telling tall tales of bathroom trips and booger quesadilla's (Dillon may be twenty four but a good booger joke is never lost on him) (I may be nineteen but a good poop reference is never lost on me either). You'd think heads would start nodding, they do, except they aren't Addie or Orrin, Dillon drinks rockstars to keep it all on the road and I just keep my bouncing noggin up with stilts and many supports, including heads of Addie or Oman but I get pushed off quickly. 

Addie and I sing Frozen and Orrin accompanies with more gusto than either of us could muster up, he has hand motions for the drama of it all, he has a sneaky grin flashed when he screams, "be the good girl..." And wouldn't this surprise you? We laugh, boy, does he feed off that quick loud breathes we call chuckles, his practically gummy smile almost falls off his face he loves being funny so much. Those missing teeth, those cowlicks, those heavy breaths out noses when thinking extremely hard. I'm talking about Dillon, not the kids. 

But those two gave me Hawaiian joy. And lots of good lessons. Nannying, parenting, being with little people

it's good stuff! 

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