baked goods.

yesterday i stood by the back door to let the dogs in and heard someone singing "kumbaya" on the other side of the fence. how in the world did some crazy ass wander back here? and how long is he gonna stay? i wasn't worried, just curious. then the girl in the guesthouse came out on her porch, giggling..."the neighbor can hear you!"... and then a santa hat smothering a mess of shaggy brown hair popped up and a bike appeared through the slats in the fence and he went riding off to the street. 

it was her boyfriend. he looks about 17. he does dishes, slowly and badly, at a family-owned restaurant and is always late and stoned sometimes, too, but doesn't get in trouble because he's too endearing for anyone to stay mad. that's my guess, the work part at least. he's definitely stoned sometimes. maybe he doesn't work at all and guesthouse girl supports him. she's always on the move in the mornings. late for work, i guess. she and i have a routine: i'll sit at my desk with my first cup, and soon enough she'll scurry past my front window to her jeep, then back to her house, at least one or two more times. it makes me smile. she must be like me, always forgetting something. sometimes it takes me 3 tries to leave my house. some days her hair is curly, some days straight. she has a few tattoos, too. so we have a few things in common. except i'd never have a boyfriend who follows me like a puppy. i only recently learned baby boyfriend's name, but i think it should be "shaggy" anyway so it doesn't matter. 

one day i got out of my car and he walked up, looking at the ground, then sideways, then anywhere but in my eyes and said, "hey, uh, we knocked on your door the other night but you weren't home. we had a little party." i like that he told me i wasn't home, as if i didn't know. i kinda want to bake him cookies and hug him and tell him to be a good boy, but i can't figure out if i'm old enough to be mothering toward a kid his age or if i'd just come off as the cougar next door.