Saturday was warm and spring-like. The younger members of the household put on long underwear and cleats and went to a field near our house to play Ultimate Frisbee. They spent the afternoon running up and down the field, leaping to grab a disc out of the air, or throwing their bodies down into the mud to make spectacular catches. When they returned to the house, they were dripping with muddy water.
Boy in Black, the most experienced player of the group, wears his long hair pulled back with a bandana. His "lucky bandana" is, for some reason, bright pink. With-a-Why, naturally, copies his older brother and pulls his own long, dark hair back with a black-and-red bandana. When he came in, the red long underwear shirt he had borrowed, several sizes too big, was splattered with mud, but the bandana had stayed in place. He looked like a little pirate.
"How cute," I said to him. "You look adorable."
Shaggy Hair rolled his eyes.
Boy in Black glared at me.
Skater Boy spoke up firmly: "No. He looks badass."
Right. That's what I meant to say.