"Samuel's Army" and "Knuckleheads"

Last week Dave and the kids came home from ice skating: “How was it?” I asked. Dave told me that Samuel had organized a group of about 15-20 kids (“Samuel’s Army” he called it)—they hung out around the edges of the skating rink, snowballs in furry mittened hands. “As I skated around the rink, little kids would pop out from behind the snow banks and throw snowballs at me. The worst were the little girls. They’d skate out in front of me, all cute and sweet, then take aim and hurl a snowball at me.” I love the image of Dave, trying to perfect his technique (stopping and turning sharply continue to elude us both), dodging snowballs at every turn.

Today Samuel and Grace burst into the apartment after a couple hours of skating. “Mom!” exclaimed Samuel, “They were a bunch of knuckleheads!” “What? Who?” I said. Grace piped in, “Yeah, three girls…” “About 9 or 10 years old!” interrupted Samuel, throwing off his coat, bright red cheeks stretched in a broad grin even as he tried to look disgusted. “Oh,” I replied, “more kids trying to bombard Dad?” “No!” said Grace. “They were blowing kisses at Samuel and they wouldn’t leave him alone!” “Knuckleheads!” repeated Samuel, “They’re crazy!” At this he put his finger to his temple and tapped his head over and over again to illustrate just how crazy he thought these girls were. Oh Samuel, there will come a time when you will wish you had three cute girls skating after you, blowing kisses and trying to get to know you.