7:37 p.m. | 2003-02-24 Spud Boy Makes A Special Appearance. Many years ago, GuyFriend and I were asked to �babysit� by some friends of ours while they went out-of-town on a weekend getaway. Actually, it�s more like they asked us to �watch� their children as they were all teenagers -- Don Juan (17), Geek Boy (17), and Princess Daria (13). Basically, our job was to make sure they didn�t burn down the house, throw a party and/or hurt each other. To help us entertain the younguns, their parents left us the funds to take �em roller skating at the local rink. Woohoo! GuyFriend and I hadn�t been roller skating in more than a decade, so we were kinda excited about it. And, get this, GuyFriend and I had never been skating together. I know, I know. Go figure. As the kids were getting ready, they mentioned that the rink had a few rules we had to follow. Like, um, a dress code. As they couldn�t produce a printout of these rules, we grilled them for information, and found out that none of us could wear any of the following: Article of clothing emblazoned with any insignia of the local schools, sports teams (local, state, national), affiliated brand items (e.g., Nike shoes). Article of clothing advertising alcohol, cigarettes and/or drugs. Article of clothing sporting profanity. Bandanas. Hats. Knives. Guns. Flamethrowers. We also discovered that there was a code of conduct to which we had to adhere. Mostly we couldn�t throw about racial slurs, gang signs or �inciting� words. The point to all these restrictions, as told to us by the youngsters, was to avoid any gang fights and/or drive-by shootings. It was becoming clear to me that times had changed since I last visited this particular rink in junior high school. Back then, it was located in the outskirts of town. Now, it�s part of the ghetto. Guyfriend and I weren�t too worried about our ability to meet these restrictions but we very carefully made each child cross their heart-hope-to-die-stick-a- needle-in-their-eye promise not to break any rules. We also made them each pinkie-swear too, just for good measure. Then we were off to the rink. We got up to the entry only to discover armed security with magic wands. A little unsettling or kind of reassuring depending on your outlook. It was at this checkpoint that we hit a little snag. See, Geek Boy was wearing a T-Shirt that had the name of a hockey team on it. (We had inspected his fashion choices but as the team name was also the name of an animal, we thought it was a PETA promotion or something.) Then, to my horror, I realized that I was wearing a sweatshirt with my law school�s name on it. Yikes! I myself was breaking the rules. However, I got waived through as I guess they didn�t think I�d be the cause of any rival law-school fisticuffs. Unfortunately though, Geek Boy was rejected. He couldn�t get in. In a moment of inspiration, GuyFriend mentioned that he thought he had an extra shirt in his car. Now, GuyFriend always had a wacky collection of stuff in his trunk so we all traipsed back car. He rooted around a bit and came up with a spare T-Shirt. Which had been in his trunk for years, literally. Geek Boy donned the offered shirt and turned around to reveal a wrinkled T-Shirt sporting SPUD BOY! Just imagine a goofy looking potato with arms and legs spouting (or sprouting) the virtues of Idaho�s most lucrative cash crop. I don�t recall exactly where GuyFriend got this gem but it came from some advertising firm. It served only to enhance Geek Boy�s general dorkiness. And in like fashion, Geek Boy didn�t seem to mind� he just wanted to get into the rink. Much like my law school sweatshirt, security didn�t bat an eye at the Spud Boy T-Shirt and we all got waived through. Once inside, we all got skates and set about to have a good time. Spud Boy, oblivious to geekiness, made a beeline to the video games. Don Juan � who was dressed to impress the young ladies � made a beeline to the opposite end of the rink from us. And, Princess Daria followed GuyFriend and I. Spud Boy never left the game area (good thing we rented him skates huh?), Don Juan pretended that he wasn�t with us and wooed the girls and Princess Daria alternated between skating with some of her friends and joining us at our table. GuyFriend and I skated some and rested a lot. Much to Princess Daria�s delight, GuyFriend and I did go out and do the couples skate. The last time I did a couples skate was at that rink in junior high and they played Reunited. It was teenage-girl-dreamy. Not so much this time. This time, Guyfriend and I tried not to fall down in front of the youngsters while we skated to a rap tune that was talking about someone�s drug-addicted mom overdosing and people being shot and ho�s and stuff. I was struck by the very unromantic choice of music but the younguns acted like it was some love/mating ballad. The weekend went well and all was good when their parents returned. However, we did find out that the kids had failed to mention a couple of things to us. Namely, that Geek Boy was on restriction and not allowed to play video games � which he did all weekend long at home and at the rink � and that Don Juan�s weekend chore was to wash all the dishes � which GuyFriend did all weekend because the children �should go and have fun�. Princess Daria, on the other hand had done all her homework and chores. See, there were a couple of questions we forgot to ask. But since they were all still alive and in one piece, we figured �no harm, no foul�. And, GuyFriend let Geek Boy keep the T-Shirt. It just seemed fitting. your thoughts? seed flower