Yesterday I brought up the gazebo conversation to the soldier…

“Yeah, because I’m not a… not a… what word was that I used last night? People think I’m a… did I say hyena?

He snorted. “Hyena?”

“Yeah, is that the word I used?”

“No it was like shrew or something. Oh yeah. Banshee. People think you’re a banshee.”

“Oh yeah, right. Well thanks for not agreeing with them. I appreciate that and I don’t agree with them either just for the record. I think the assertion is a load of crap actually.”

More laughing but I didn’t ask why because sick of my asking all the time I didn’t figure he’d respond.

~
Then later that evening he starts going off all dreamy…

“Yeah, me and you on the gazebo. We’d be out there on the gazebo and then I’d kiss you and you’d lift your leg up like that, bend it at the knee.”

“Uh huh.”

“And then we look at each other and then we’d sing a song. Yep, we’d have to sing a song together and be all in love. Don’t you wish we could have been raised up like that? Had it like that?”

“Well… yeah. That would be nice.”

“Yeah, except then you’d be yelling at me. You’d be yelling for sure.”

“Why’s that?

“Cause I’d be raising those kids up with a whistle.”

I laughed.

“Yeah, you’d be in love with me and say, let me meet your kids. I’d say, okay. And then I’d blow my whistle and they’d all come out and line up. Then each of them would step out from the line and say their name and then step back.”

“Oh brother. Yeah, I’d probably have to remark on that.”