A Fresh Cut
He is the world’s worst driver, swerving the steering wheel left and right, hanging out of the vehicle’s doorless frame. He isn’t even wearing his silver framed glasses- not that it matters much, the speedometer is only a sticker and the wheels don’t touch the ground.His father lies, “You are driving and doing such a good job,” as he props up the driver in the decommissioned Power Wheels Jeep. The driver won’t sit still, he has stimulus from all directions. The Wiggles sing “I’m a hoop-de-do kind of guy” as they dance around in oversized foam cowboy hats on a TV/DVD player in front of the dusty brown vehicle, an entire Lego city and child size kitchen beckons from the toy store portion of Whipper Snippers.
Gloria reaches into the trunk, select her tools and gently adjust the driver’s oval head to the left. The initial moment of contact between Gloria’s fingers and the driver’s head of soft brown blond hair causes his world to cease. The first cut is always the worst.
The stainless steel scissors glide behind the driver’s ears. Snip-snip, pause, snip. His hands relax their vice grip on the sides of the Jeep, and color returns to his knuckles. The Wiggles reappear, he feels the plastic seat, someone in the store is asking about a wooden model dinosaur, his senses return.
“Let me just get the side here,” Gloria says gently as his father taps away at a Blackberry Pearl. The Jeep swerves as hands return to the wheel. The dusty brown vehicle emblazoned with the word “Adventure,” still lives up to its name.
“You are all done, good job” Gloria tells the driver as she regards her handiwork in the large square mirror. “Do you like it?” the father asks the driver. The driver nods, then thinks for a moment, and shakes his head no. “He likes it,” Dad reassures.
Gloria removes a shoulder pad of rubber, errant hairs falling onto the pine flooring. The father helps the driver slip out of the blue smock printed with frogs and clowns.
The driver is lifted out of the Jeep, defying gravity before being set back down on earth. He receives his glasses and the world he has known for three and a half years comes back into focus.
On to the next adventure.
Labels: adventure, children, style
posted by UpperWestSideGuy @ 9:37 PM
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