D.O.A (And Then Some)

Darwin was a puppy. With his shaggy hair, innocent eyes, and always in need of constant attention, he definitely descended from canines. Darwin always had that stupid dopamine rush that dogs get when they see their owners (or people in general). But he had it all the time.

“Let’s go to the park! Sahara, please? Can we go to the park?”

He was out the door before I could tell him no. I grabbed the house keys, locked the door, and then ran after him. By the time I caught up with him, he was sitting on the swing set talking to a little girl. Her mother was leaning against the leg of the swing, listening to Darwin babble on about whatever came to his mind.

“Hi, Darcy,” I smiled.

She turned, beaming when she recognized me. “Hey! How are you?”

“I’m pretty good. And yourself?”

“Yeah, I’m great, actually. Doug and I are pregnant again.”

“How’s Carmen taking that?” I nodded at the little girl, who was playing patty-cake with my husband.

Darcy shrugged. “You know; worried that she’s not going to have all of our attention. But other than that, she really wants a baby brother. Oh, before I forget! The Pearson family is having their annual Fourth barbeque next month. Marge and I were talking about it this morning on our walk. She’s thinking that we should let the men play with fireworks this year. I was thinking we could take a trip into the city as a community and see their display. Anyway, she knew I see you almost every day and asked that I see if you were free.”

“Absolutely.”

“She was also curious if you could make your banana-whatever thing.”

I laughed. “I can.”

“Okay, great; everyone really likes them!”

“It’s not a problem. Plus, Darwin will appreciate it if I make one of them, too.”

Speaking of, he had run off to go play on the slide, leaving Carmen on the swing set.

“I’ll talk to you soon. Say hi to Doug for me,” I asked, turning to fetch my husband. “Darwin, here boy,” I joked, walking over to the slide.

He took a final trip down and then attacked me into a hug. “We should play giant Jenga,” he informed me as he took my hand in his and tugged me along on whatever whim he had.

When we got home, I didn’t have a say in whether we played Jenga. He managed to set it up without being distracted, on the patio of our outdoor kitchen, as the bugs decided to eat us alive.

The tower fell on one of his turns, and his reaction was to giggle and clap his hands. “That was fun. We should play again.”

I checked my watch and tapped on the glass plate to indicate that it was getting late.

“Nah, don’t pay attention to that.” He covered my wrist, like that would make me forget the time. “We can totally just get take-out and not worry about cooking tonight.” His eyes widened all innocent-like and he stared at me intently, waiting for my resolve to break.

I rolled my eyes and started rebuilding the tower, causing his smile to grow.

After our “best of three” game, his attention was lost as he tried to put the blocks away. He went inside and left me to stack the rest of the pieces. When he came back outside, I had just put the last few blocks away. The phone was snuggled in the crook of his shoulder, the take-out menu of the Chinese place in his left hand and a paddle ball in right hand. He walked across the backyard to where he had left a soccer ball earlier in the afternoon and started kicking it around.

As he mindlessly moved across the yard, while on the phone, I thought it would be funny if I ran up from behind him and stole the ball. He wasn’t one to turn down a challenge like that, even if he was on the phone. So he immediately started after the ball, laughing giddily.

“You’re ridiculous,” I laughed, steadying myself against his back as he ran in front of me.

Darwin played soccer from middle school up through college, which explained why he was stupidly good at stealing the ball back whenever I challenged him.

During dinner, Darwin kept babbling about whatever came to his mind. He liked rather short sentences, that way he could fit in a lot within a minute. One second he was talking about work, the next a project he wanted to work on (that he, honestly, probably, wouldn’t finish), the next how good the food was, then the next about how he had to take a shower after dinner because, boy, you really wore me out while we ran around outside. But don’t worry, he still had enough energy to talk my ear off.

“Let’s watch a movie!” he grinned once he finished scarfing down his food.

He wouldn’t be able to sit still during the movie, so I don’t know why I agreed to it. Maybe it was that stupid innocent look he gave me.

“Oh my God, Kevin Spacey is so adorable in this movie. Don’t you think, Sahara?”

“Maybe if you’d let me watch the movie, I’ll be able to tell you,” I chuckled.

“No, I want you to know right now,” he deadpanned. The crook in his lips deceived him.

He turned to watch the movie, sitting still for maybe two minutes before he started getting fidgety. “We should make cookies. Or a cake! Ooh, can we make a cake?”

“Why do you want to make a cake?”

“Because I’m bored!” he whined.

I laughed. “You really want a cake?”

He nodded.

He really didn’t, because after he got the ingredients out (hadn’t even started working on making the cake), he disappeared upstairs, spouting another brilliant idea he had.

After I cleaned up the kitchen and turned off the TV, I headed upstairs. Darwin was fast asleep, lying face down on the covers and snoring loudly. I wrestled to get the covers over him and then settled next to him.

The next morning he was up at the ass-crack of dawn, kneeling on the bed and staring down at me, waiting for me to wake up.

“Hi,” he grinned as I rubbed my eyes.

“Wha’s got you up so early?” I slurred, a yawn stifled in my elbow.

“It’s a great day to go for a drive, don’t you think?”

“Babe, it’s six in the morning. How is now a great time to go driving?”

“‘The sun is shining…’”

“I’m not finishing that statement.”

He grabbed me by my shoulders and pulled me out of bed. “Come on. There’s plenty to do today!” He gasped violently. “Oh my God, we could climb a mountain!” He shook my shoulders and then disappeared downstairs.

I heard the sound of something breaking, so I trudged down to the kitchen.

Darwin was halfway into the refrigerator. “Scrambled eggs and toast. Scrambled eggs and toast,” he singsonged. “Gonna make me some scrambled eggs and toast.” He gasped again. “And jam! This is so exciting.”

He was beaming as he tended to three or four things all at the same time, all on his own. He looked so proud that he hadn’t lost interest in making breakfast.

While we ate, he insisted we play musical chairs. I just stared back blankly.

“Sahara, the music started. You have to move!” he grinned, jumping up and down.

The rest of our day was devoted to taking “the most amazing drive north.” He kept reaching across the passenger’s seat to point out “the most amazing cows” he’d ever seen, even though those cows were actually horses.

And I bet you anything he didn’t see “the most amazing red Ford truck” coming at us as we swerved into the oncoming lane.