Sewing up a hole in the netting of my backpack by the front window. I can hear the constant squeak of the swing set in the playground across the street. Occasionally the man with a cart stacked with Chicharrones squeaks his horn. I saw him gabbing to two other guys as I came home. He’s not going anywhere. And then cutting through the noise a boy yells out, “Abandon ship! Abandon ship!” I smirk and picture a small group of boys on the climbing monkey bars. He’s having some success but he’s keeping a steady string of “Come on guys!” and other orders with a pleading tone. His crews allegiance is not totally won over, but it sounds like the kid has a pretty good vision.