last night i came home to nine little faces sitting on my porch. waiting out the rain. they all knew my name. i haven’t met any of them yet.

“you’re hilary!
“i been waitin’ to meet you.”
“aren’t you living with jackie and katie and liz?”
“hey hilary, you got anything to make bracelets with?”

and my favorite: two five year old boys. one inherently naughty, the other nice.
naughty: “hey. are you hilary?”
me: “yes, i am. what’s your name?”
naughty: “shawn”
nice: “his name isn’t shawn, it’s elijah!”
naughty: “it’s not just shawn. it’s deshawn.”
me: “ok, what’s your last name?
naughty: “deshawn.”
nice: “no it’s not — he’s lying to you!
me: “so your name is deshawn deshawn?”
naughty: “yes”
nice: “no it ain’t – stop lyin! tell her your name”
me: “so your initials are DD?”
naughty: “mhmm”
me: “so can i call you DD?”
naughty: “NO! DD is a girls name!”

proper introductions have been made. DD and i are friends now.