What Child is This?

A friend of ours came over the other day to see the sugaring operation and brought his young son, Bennett, with him. Bennett and Sydney both go to the same pre-school, but they've really gotten to know eachother during the rides to and from their school. As soon as Bennett got out of the car, both kids ran into the house, upstairs, and were gone.

A little while later I went upstairs to check on them and found Sydney's door closed. I didn't hear anything so I knocked and opened the door, only to find no children in the room. Puzzled, I stared at the empty room for a bit until the strains of an enthusiastically untuned guitar came wafting from the closet. I closed the door.

Normally Sydney is very attached to myself and her father and while she will at times play by herself, or, on off occasions, with her sister, she'll pretty much insist that we be a part of the action. But when her friend comes over a whole different Sydney emerges. She's confident, she's feisty, and Things Happen.

While down at the sugar house I happened to glance out of the corner of my eye both kids walking purposely down our forest road with a box of cheddar bunnies in one hand and a play sword in the other.

"Where are you going, guys?" I yelled out.

"We want to see where the road ends," they shouted back.

I decided I better come with them.

By the end of the journey (a mile's walk in either direction) both kids were tired and complaining that their legs were going to fall off, but that didn't stop Sydney from somehow getting Bennett to carry the sword, the box of cheddar bunnies and her jacket, nor did it stop either of them from suddenly breaking out into a game of "police police"--a game where a police officer puts a driver in jail but the driver says he/she is a race car driver so the officer lets them out (I'll have to try that on our local cops someday)-- or from hopping from rock to rock in the spring stream for the rest of the day.

When it was finally time for Bennett and his father to go home, Sydney burst into exhausted tears. She would not be comforted by the fact that she would see Bennett the very next day or that we all promised he could come back to her house very soon. She morosely followed my husband, Bennett, and his father back up to the driveway, where the two adults got to talking and the two kids immediately found Something To Do.

When I got back up later, I found a small Chinese guardsman statue nicely decorated with balls, a scarf and various sticks. Sydney was calmly watching Sesame Street. "Nice decorating you did there," I said to her. She barely glanced at me. "Yeah," she said, absently.
Oh good, the Sydney I know is back.