The Bash We'll Never Attend

Last night, while we were canning, there was a soft knock on our door. I always wonder why people choose not to use the doorbell. Doorbells are not evil. We did hear the knock, so I opened the door and there stood a young boy, perhaps seven, wearing a bicycle helmet.

"Do you have a little son?"

If he only knew how we wish we had a little son. I spared him the details and simply answered, "No, we don't have any children."

He furthered, "Do you know of someone around here who does have a son?" I quickly thought of my neighbors and failed at suggesting anyone. I said, "No, not right here, but you might find some boys at the playground. Are you looking for someone to play with?"

He held up a flier he was holding in his hand and said, "No, I'm looking for someone to go to this bash with me."

"Oh. Do you know where the playground is?"

He nodded his head and left.

If we had a little son, we would be thrilled to take him and you to the bash. We would be thrilled on so many levels.

"Do you have a little son?" The question has been ringing in my ears ever since.