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How Ironic.

BCOF:


I was questioning my daughter about her new friend from the park when I discovered that he was not a new friend at all.

"Oh no, Daddy. I have known him as long as I can remember."

For some reason she blushed and acted shy.  Looking younger than her 12 years, in her braids and sundress, she went on to tell me about this little boy.

"The first time I can remember seeing him was down by the creek. He was turning over rocks and looking for salamanders.  He told me how you could throw them in a fire, and how they wouldn't burn up at all, just turn crispy.  Then when you dumped water on the fire to put it out they get all soft and slimy again and wake right back up.  His mom lives back that way, just outside the park, in a tent, by the creek.  His name is Iron.  His mom named him that because she has a pan made out of iron that she has had for like for EVER.  For a long time when I came to the park to see him we would wade in the creek.  And talk and look for salamanders, and frogs, and bugs, and snakes, and toads.  You know?  Now I don't see him so often any more.  I don't know why.  Maybe he doesn't like me as much.  But I think he does.  I hope he does.  Now sometimes we just sit on a rock together and hold hands. You know.  And talk.  And stuff."

This sounded very curious to me.  I wondered why I had never heard of this little boy before.  I asked her what this little boy looked like and how old he was.

"Oh Daddy, I don't know how old he is, but Irony looks JUST LIKE ME.