Bring on the Cold!

I always long for the weather to turn cold for many reasons and this year is no different. The crispness in the air; the colorful, chunky sweaters; the fuzzy wool mittens; hot cocoa--all are things I look forward to with the winding down of summer. This year, however, I have a more specific reason that tops the list. This year, when winter comes, it will finally be too cold for the children to play outside which means the quad in front of my apartment building will be what I’ve longed for: quiet!

I don’t have anything against children. In fact, I love them and the happy sounds of their playing. There are few things more joyful than the laughter of a child. As I sit by the front window I enjoy hearing little shoes rustling through fallen leaves outside, the crunch of a big wheel on the concrete. These things don’t bother me in the slightest.

It’s just the screaming that I don’t understand. It really is remarkable, this need children have to scream entire conversations. They scream when they’re happy and when they’re upset. They scream when it’s time to go in; when a new friend comes to play; collectively and individually. Why do they do this? Are they just trying out their voices? Are they testing the limits of their parents? I’m not sure. All they seem to know is, they’re outside and outside is the screaming place. And it’s screaming the likes of which I’ve never heard and which can penetrate even the cinderblock walls of my apartment. Indeed, I am in awe of the ability and longevity of these children. I once sat through a good ten minutes of continuous screaming. I timed it. These kidlets would be great at a rock concert.

The ultimate manifestation of the ability children have to make noise came last week. The warmth (and rarity) of a seventy degree afternoon in November enticed enough children outside for a great deal of this happy noise I mentioned earlier. Sitting on my couch, I could hear the familiar sounds of small sneakers pounding the pavement and laughter in the stairwell. Then, a sound I was not familiar with as one coming from children met my ears. Howling. And barking. I was confused, thinking about the “no pets” policy I had read on our renter’s agreement so many months ago. Where did all these dogs come from? Next, I heard a little voice outside appointing someone as “dog catcher” and realized why these “dogs” had sounded more like spider monkeys than canines.

And so I and my audial health look forward to the coming months when the children will be barricaded indoors due to the cold. I will be sitting happy with my sweater on and hot chocolate in hand. And, should the poor, stir-crazy mothers, out of sheer desperation bundle up their children and toss them out of the house under pretense of building a snowman, at least the plummeting temperatures will warrant a pair of cute earmuffs. Thick ones.