We sit at the dining table, passing potatoes and vegetables, and my 10-year-old son suddenly announces that Bryan and Maya* are having a baby. …
We all stare at him across the table.
“Who’re Brian and Maya?” my husband finally asks into the silence.
“Our neighbors,” my son says, exasperated. “The ones at the end, facing that way.” He makes a fluttering motion with his hand. He looks from one of us to another, waiting for a light of recognition, but when we all continue to stare blankly, he shakes his head and goes back to his potatoes. …
My son has become like the cruise director of our neighborhood. He knows who lives in each house, how many kids they have, what their dogs’ names are, and even when and where they go on vacation. He knows what all the adults do for a living, when they’re home, what kind of car they drive, and, in some cases, what they have for dinner on any given night. Continue reading