After school this morning we went to Third Street Park. As I strolled Mamie in, we were drawn to two 7 or 8-year old girls. Mamie loves older girls and when one of them was pretending to be asleep on a bench Mamie went up to her and laid her head down next to her. It was really sweet.
"We're sisters," said one of the girls. "We're identical twins, actually."
These girls looked nothing alike, but hey, whatever. I listened as they chatted gleefully.
"We're teenagers, you know," said the other one.
"Oh," I said, "so, you get to do whatever you want, right? What does your mother think about that?"
"Our mother is dead," they said. "Both of our parents are dead. And we don't know where the body is."
They said this so matter of factly that I wondered if there was a CSI for children playing on the Nickelodeon Network.
"That's really sad," I said.
"We know. We think her body is far far away."
In the meantime I was looking for the parents or caretakers of these kids. Then I saw a few teachers from one of the local private schools. I know they take the kids to the park, so I figured these girls were part of that group. No one seemed to notice that these girls trailed off and were talking to a stranger (me). The conversation continued. More about the pirates and the missing body and word "dead" was spoken no less than 27 times. Finally, I got up and wished them well on their corpse hunt. I'd had enough.
"She didn't even get a funeral," they said.
Again I told them that I thought that was sad. They nodded and went back to their group.
Does this creep anybody else out?
"We're sisters," said one of the girls. "We're identical twins, actually."
These girls looked nothing alike, but hey, whatever. I listened as they chatted gleefully.
"We're teenagers, you know," said the other one.
"Oh," I said, "so, you get to do whatever you want, right? What does your mother think about that?"
"Our mother is dead," they said. "Both of our parents are dead. And we don't know where the body is."
They said this so matter of factly that I wondered if there was a CSI for children playing on the Nickelodeon Network.
"That's really sad," I said.
"We know. We think her body is far far away."
In the meantime I was looking for the parents or caretakers of these kids. Then I saw a few teachers from one of the local private schools. I know they take the kids to the park, so I figured these girls were part of that group. No one seemed to notice that these girls trailed off and were talking to a stranger (me). The conversation continued. More about the pirates and the missing body and word "dead" was spoken no less than 27 times. Finally, I got up and wished them well on their corpse hunt. I'd had enough.
"She didn't even get a funeral," they said.
Again I told them that I thought that was sad. They nodded and went back to their group.
Does this creep anybody else out?
But I do recall, in the playgrounds of Northeast Philadelphia, coming up with scenarios of "let's pretend we're all sisters and have no parents because we're orphans and we live in this hopscotch grid" (actually, it was a grid that was a huge P and spelled out "Philadelphia"). Maybe there's something Freudian to it... I did kinda think it was a little weird, though. I mean, I didn't want to be an orphan-- real or pretend.
--tina
(I know it says GovDocs@Gelman... that's my workblog and it's now tied to my gmail so I don't forget the password)
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