The Kids of Indianapolis Have a New Hero

Sorry for the delay, those of you expecting this yesterday: My wi-fi died. It has been resurrected.

If you read through Brett's most recent post and comments (here), you might have noticed a tiny little response (or two) in the comment section where Brett mentioned that we spent Memorial Day together in Indianapolis.

Yep. And it was awesome. End of story.

Haha! Just kidding. I wouldn't tease you like that. I mean it was awesome, but that's not the end of the story. I'll share. ('cause I'm a giver like that.)

What happens when two bloggers get together? The ears of the entire blogosphere should be burning. Yesirree dudes, you were under discussion. Because we love you.

Hard to believe it's Indianapolis?

Brett and I are pretty comfortable together by now, so walking along the canal - beautified for the Superbowl, so a pretty nice walk - was comfortable.
People-watching near the museums and zoo was a riot, as you can imagine.

Believe me, Brett's the one making the jokes, and I am the one trying to keep my sides from splitting. (My friends in Delaware find me amusing, but I can't hold a candle to Brett for flat-out funny.)

We went to a baseball game in the evening. Victory Field in Indianapolis doesn't do bleachers in the outfield: they have sloping lawns instead. We had a blanket and a picnic, and set up under the sole tree (above the slope), because I was already pinking up from all the sun. Because we were near-ish to an entrance and concession stand, there were many families walking past us the whole time, and the occasional father-son or father-daughter pair playing catch behind us.

Dudes, I couldn't believe I was watching this phenomenon in person!

An abundance of random children.
...and in near proximity to Brett, the Transformed Non-conformist!

If you've read the post of Brett's that I highlighted above, you've heard his side of what happens when he is around young children.

Allow me to illuminate you! That's right. I was an eye-witness.

1. He's correct. It's not like he's trying to play with the kids. But if they stare - as kids tend to do - Brett will point at them in return. Sometimes this would cause them to laugh, sometimes to wave, sometimes to hide behind their parent. I tried to pull his hand down, but you know, "old dog...new tricks."

He was just trying to teach them what "rude" is!

2. Kids just walk in his direction. Really, we were just sitting there! In addition to the 8-9 year-old girls who seemed fascinated by us, and the parents playing catch with their kids, at one point a dad was walking his 2 or 3 year-old daughter near us. 

The dad & daughter. (It's a bit far away...)

When the dad was distracted by the game, Brett waved the girl over. She freely walked toward us, at which point Brett joked with the Dad about her opennness with strangers.  

He was just trying to teach a lesson in safety!

We had grapes sitting out on the cooler, so I suggested that she was walking toward food. (Everyone knows kids and animals are drawn to food.) I asked the girl if she wanted a couple grapes (not that she understood the question), and her dad quickly said, "Sure. She can have a grape."

I started  to reach into the ziploc and get out the grapes. The girl suddenly saw me - I think she was mesmerized by Brett until then - and started to back slowly away from our blanket.

Conclusion: Brett looks safe and I look scary.

3. The same little girl and her dad - after probably one or two more beers. He had apparently won her a prize: A small beachball designed to look like a baseball. They were again walking around near us. This time, Brett reached out as if to catch the ball. Without question, she tossed it to him.


The little girl who snubbed me.

 They played catch for a few minutes, while her Dad was shooting the breeze with us and another dad meandering the grassy area. Then they continued walking away.

She never once threw the ball to me.

Conclusion: Brett exudes a "fun" vibe that I obviously lack.

4. After the game, on our way out of town, Brett pulled into a gas station to fill up for the drive home. Now, he had been apologizing for the bird poop on my side of the windshield (like it was his fault), and intended to take care of it. Then I saw the minivan across from us seemed to have commandeered several of the squeegees for the one adult and two kids to tackle all the windows on their vehicle.

I heard the girl (about 9yo?) complain to her big brother (maybe 11?) that it was HER turn to do THAT side of the van.

...next thing you know, Brett found two young windshield washers to attack our bird-poop.

The big brother started on Brett's side...

The girl was too short to effectively reach the windshield, so Brett gave her some help:

Yes, she's standing on the hood.

He was just trying to solve the sibling dispute!

It was a delightful day by every standard. And it was especially fun to be able to verify what precisely happens in these scenarios. Believe me, dudes: Brett is NOT making it up!