Whose Kids are These and Why are They in My House?

Quite a few years ago a family moved to our street. Their children were similarly aged as our boys and thus began daily outside play time on the cul-de-sac. Eventually their time together moved to the indoors. I remember the first time they came to our house. When it came time to leave, one of the boys turned to his mother and asked, "What can I borrow?".

Huh, I thought. Hmmm.

"Well, I don't know. Why don't you ask", his mother replied. Then to me, "we borrow, if that's okay". Oh, well, nothing like putting me on the spot but hey! I was new to this kids coming over to play thing, so maybe this was considered normal. I mean, I don't remember borrowing anything when I was a kid except maybe some clothes from my best friend but I was a teenager at that point. Besides, what could be the harm in a little boy borrowing a toy?

Oh you sweet sweet stupid woman, Mrs. Farklepants.

Here's the harm: I mean, you're not quite so dumb to give the child your own child's coveted three inch plastic Cookie Monster, which of course being the temporary Woobie of sorts, is the toy that the child asked to borrow because well my child clung to it like dear life for the duration of their play time together so it must be something worth borrowing. No. So I chose a safe toy. One that never gets any attention. One that could be considered forgotten.

Have you any idea how valuable that toy becomes once it leaves the house for the negotiated twenty-four hour time frame? And it suddenly becomes valuable at, like say, 2am? And also that children that small have no idea what twenty-four hours, or a day, or tomorrow is? And now that you've let a neighbor child borrow some random toy YOU are not going to be getting any sleep that night?

After that adventure of parental trial and error; we instated a new rule around here: no borrowing. Borrowing is not the same as sharing. If you come over, my children will share their toys and you can play with them all the damn day but they're not leaving this house. Because that's what going over to play IS. You go over. You play with your friend's toys. You go home. The toys stay. The end.

It wasn't until later that I realized that they "borrow" because it was the only way she was able to get her children out of a friend's house without a complete meltdown. But I'm firmly in the camp of a good throwing your flailing, kicking, screaming child under your arm and leaving the house and letting them know under no uncertain terms that future playdates will be eliminated until one can learn to be a gracious guest. Because I kick it old school like that - now where'd I put that hickory switch?

All of the above was my long way of saying this short thing: When Girl-Child's friend came to play yesterday and expressed her desire to take Girl-Child's most prized possession home with her:


I gently let her know that she was welcome to play with it as long as she was visiting our home. She abruptly reminded me that it was nice to share. I was quick to tell her bite me if she wanted one for her own house she was going to have to ask her mother to add it to her Christmas wish list.

**3 photos by Dorothy Z.