D'evil among us

The kids have heard me grumble a time or two about our neighbor (and I use that term loosely - he's no Mr. Rogers) because in the six months he (and his mom ... and his baby) have lived there, he has yet to mow the lawn. Yeah, thanks. Still, while I would appreciate some basic lawn care courtesy, I have nothing against this guy. Ironically, he helped me get my lawnmower started last month. I could not pull the cord hard/fast enough, and this fellow - often found lounging on his front stoop - came over to help.

He does puzzle us (me) a bit. When I met his mom this summer, while she was getting the house ready for them, she told me she had a fifteen year old son. I remember the 15 very, very clearly. I made a connection to another neighbor who is 17, but she did not think her son knew the other neighbor because the other neighbor was older.

Why does this confuse me? Because his baby is two and a half. Crunch those numbers. I know she is because I asked him, "Hey, how old is your baby? She's cute!" yesterday. She is cute. I just can't help wondering if her father was 13 when she was conceived.

Still, despite my raised eyebrow and scowled lip, I thought I was being a good neighbor. I thought this until Graham asked me, "Is our neighbor evil, Mom?"

Evil? What kind of impression am I giving!?!!

"Graham, he's not evil. He just doesn't mow his lawn. But that doesn't make him a bad person!"

"It doesn't?"

"Remember how he helped me get my lawnmower started? That was helpful!" I said.

"Maybe he wanted you to mow his lawn."

(Hmmm ... you have a point, son.)

Annie was part of the conversation too, and had an important insight for Graham: "I know he's not evil, Graham. If he was evil he would have a picture of the devil on his front door. But I don't see any pictures of the devil."

Wow. She's right. Graham even looked. There are no pictures of the devil on his front door. Whew. We're all clear, and I think each of us learned something about judging others.


Good golly, Miss Molly - where are my children getting these ideas? Perhaps it's not the worst approach for labeling sex offenders, but I'd like to think I'm teaching open-mindedness. (I shared the story with Kyle, and he said, in his defense, "I've never said anything about devil paintings on doors, Erin." Believe me, old friend, I never suspected you of such a thing!)

Devil story #2
At our most recent Kids' book club activity, the kids got to select some plastic trinkets from a trunk. (We read the book Holes, all about digging for treasure.) Graham selected a tiny plastic devil finger puppet, something made as a Halloween favor, I'm sure. Somehow, he brought that little critter to church two weeks ago, and while we were standing in the foyer, he pulled it out and started waving the toy around.

"Put that away," I hissed. I don't mind if he has a small toy at church, but please, bring something more ... wholesome!

Graham wouldn't put it away so I tossed it into my massive church tote bag. I could tell Graham was hyper, so I brought him over to me to do some joint compressions (an OT technique that helps relax kids). He loves these compressions and stood next to me happily for a few minutes.

Then, when I turned to say something to a ward member, he retrieved that little plastic toy from the tote. When I turned back to Graham, he was stretching the toy's tiny plastic arm (red and with a pitchfork attached).

"Look Mom," he bellowed out, "I'm giving the devil a joint."

Ah, just perfect. He meant a joint compression. How nice. No one knows what those are. Now people might wonder how Graham knows what a joint is. I hope lots of people overheard his cheerful comment! Then they'll think I need a devil painted on MY door!


p.s. I know many of you will want to write funny comments about this post. You will want to share how it made you laugh and cry. I am trying to get to the bottom of this devilish problem, but in the meantime, just sent me a wink and a smile.