So after an afternoon of drafting copy for a brochure for a travel tour of the Old West, I decide to join my young friend, Jack, for some afternoon frolicks. Now 4 1/2 years old, Jack is fond of digging, and my yard is in such a state of disarray, it offers many a spot of bald dirt for his excavation pleasure.
As our brief respite draws to a close (it was quite chilly, and his mom and I agreed it was time to call it quits), Jack asks why I had come outside. I explain that I saw them out playing, so I came out to join him because I like him. He asks could I come out to play every day. I explain that I would come out any day that I could.
So then he asks: Does Eamon tell me when I could come out to play?
An interesting question. I explained that no, I come out all on my own. His mother adds that Eamon doesn't make decisions for me, and I don't make decisions for Eamon.
I suspect young Jack has identified a bearded stumbling block in the way of his romancing of his fair neighbor.
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