The Pied Piper of Halifax Street

My husband, Rowdy, is a fun guy. He likes to do fun things. He likes to do rowdy things. He likes to include other people in the fun. Because of these traits, he is a great favorite of the neighborhood kids. Matt, 11, lives at the top of the street. He is the son of Renee and Pat, who welcomed us to the neighborhood with open arms before we had actually closed on our house. Johnny, 8, and Jason, 5, live two houses down from us. Their mom, Irina, and dad, ?, are Russian Jewish emigres and kind of keep to themselves.

We moved into our house last May. One day soon after, the doorbell rang. It was Johnny. He said, "Can Rowdy come out and play?" I think Rowdy was taking a nap or was otherwise occupied, so I told Johnny that, no, Rowdy could not come out and play. A couple of days later, Johnny said to Rowdy, "I asked your sister if you could come out and play, and she said no!" When Rowdy explained that I was, in fact, his wife, and that he was not 10, but 33, Johnny was gobsmacked. "You're the same age as my mom?!?"

We were driving home from Utah at Christmastime and happened upon a fireworks store just outside of Las Vegas. It was housed in a double-wide trailer, basically, that also contained a liquor store and a casino. There were rows and rows of fireworks. Rowdy looked like he was going to pass out from rapture. He was very restrained and only bought $75 worth of fireworks--M80's, bottle rockets, Roman candles, bees, flowers, and bunches of firecrackers. Now, fireworks are illegal in San Diego, but you can be sure that Rowdy and the boys (and me) have shot off plenty in the last four months. Matt's GI Joe suffered heinous war wounds a couple of weeks ago when Max was visiting. Ever wonder what an M80 will do to a GI Joe? It will light his uniform on fire and blacken his plastic torso.

Rowdy and I decided that it would be awesome to have a climbing wall in our garage, so he and two friends from the ward built it one Saturday. We bought a gymnastics pad for the garage floor, plus we have our bouldering pad should we need it. Whenever our garage door is open, you can be sure that at Johnny and Jason are over, asking if they can climb on the wall. I'm sure their mom hates the chalk they bring home on their hands and clothes.

I have been trying to be a better, more courageous mountain biker, so Rowdy built two teeter-totters and two ramps for me to practice skills on. My sister, Karen, was visiting us when I was learning how to take a ramp. Despite being padded, gloved and helmeted, I still managed to get a road rash on my elbow that has left a gnarly scar. (I should write a post cataloging the scars I've developed since we've been married.) Karen took pictures.

Johnny could barely ride a bike last summer, and Jason couldn't at all. Because of the ramps and teeter-totters, they became pretty decent little bike-riders. Matt's a pretty game kid and fairly athletic, so he was usually the first one to try things out. One day, he had his friend, Artie, over. Matt and Artie borrowed a ramp and put it on the hill between our houses. Matt jumped first--no problem. Artie took at crack at it, and the next thing we knew, he was sprawled in the street, screaming bloody murder. My response was, "Oh, you poor thing! Are you okay? Where does it hurt?" Rowdy and Pat's response was, "Walk it off!!" Artie was actually okay, but his bike helmet was severely dented. Thank goodness he actually had it on! Another neighbor kid borrowed the ramp so that he and his buddies could jump their skateboards off of it as they flew down the hill to what I call "Lower Halifax". They were not wearing protective equipment, but Providence being what it is, no one was injured.

The other day, Irina came over to talk to Rowdy. She said, "Jason had to write an essay about the most important person in his life. He didn't write about his mom, or his dad. He wrote about you. I thought you'd want to know that before you leave."

I don't think that I can be the Pied Piper of Halifax while Rowdy's gone. I'm the big sister that won't let people come out and play, remember. I will try to keep the garage door open from time to time. I'll bring out the ramps and teeter-totter. I may even shoot off a firecracker or two. But it won't be the same. I'll miss the Pied Piper as much as they will.