Mother's Day--Children's Middle Names II

Someone once said that the only reason for giving a child a middle name was to let him/her know (s)he was in deep yogurt. I don't remember my mother broadcasting her displeasure in that way, but I know I did.

This is the most memorable of those occasions.

Arwen and Dee (William Richard named himself "Dee" when he was barely old enough to walk, let alone talk, and the name stuck, in part because his father loathed being called "Billy" and wasn't about to saddle his son with that name) were in middle school, Arwen going into fifth grade and Dee into sixth the summer Simon Fraser University opened their classes to elementary school children so they could get a taste of what college was like. For a week, kids got to use computers (a very big deal in the eighties), do experiments in the various science labs, use cameras in the photography studio and then develop their own photos, and, in Dee's case, learn basic business principles.

We lived on a cul-de-sac, which gave us a tiny front yard, but the biggest back yard in the neighborhood. Add to that my philosophy that the kids were welcome to do anything that didn't result in bodily harm, and ours was the playground of choice for all my children's friends.

A few days after their week at Simon Fraser, there was the usual congregation of kids in the back yard with the usual level of noise. I'm not certain how long they'd been there when I heard someone stomping up the back steps and into the kitchen; that someone was Arwen and she was furious. Without even giving me a chance to ask "what's wrong?" she said, "Mom, Dee says we have to pay him rent to use the back yard."

"WHAT!"

"He says that's what he learned in the business class."

I can say this now that my children are adults, but it was all I could do to keep a straight face as I walked out onto the back porch and said in my best sergeant-major-on-the-parade-ground voice, "William Richard Phillips, get up here! Now!"

Now, a child who knows (s)he's in trouble when his/her mother uses his/her first and middle names knows there's some really deep yogurt waiting when she uses all of them in one breath. Dee came. Arwen went out via the living room and the front door so she didn't have to pass her brother on the stairs.

Dee verified what his sister had said, explaining that our back yard was something everyone wanted to use so we should be making a profit on it. Assuming my best Jehovah-speaking-to-Moses-from-Mt.-Sinai voice, I said, "Dee, I am the president of this corporation and there will be no charging anyone rent to play here. Do you understand me?"

No argument, just a disappointed sigh--"Okay"--and he went back down the steps. I don't know what he said to the other kids and I never asked.

I was laughing too hard. And I'm still laughing.