Meet Me On Gorilla Street

For the last week my oldest child has been talking about a classmate from school who he says lives in our neighborhood. This is news to me, because he's rarely mentioned this child before and never asked to play with him. He says they have agreed to meet at the neighborhood pool so they can synch up Roblox user names and play together. I'm excited to get him out of my hair, and also for him to have a new friend.

Twice now he has gone down to the wide parking lot in front of our neighborhood pool, and stood and waited for this friend. And stood. And waited. 

Twice his friend never shows up. Twice he trudges home despondently. 

Finally I asked for his friend's last name. In that moms-are-superheroes mentality, I think I can somehow make this situation better. My son says it's Bird or Burn or something, he doesn't remember. Who needs last names anyway?

I look up both names in the school directory as well as our neighborhood Facebook group...and find nothing.

"Are you sure he lives in our neighborhood?" I ask. 

"Yes, he says he does! He lives near the pool! He said he saw your car on the street yesterday morning!"

So this morning I put a Post-It with our home phone number in my son's book bag. I told him to give it to his friend so he can call us, and they can exchange Roblox names that way, and then play together. I am puffed up with pride at my problem-solving skills. 

This afternoon, our home phone rings. (Yes, we still have a home phone, precisely so my kids are not giving out my cell phone number to their friends.) My son doesn't recognize the name on the Caller ID so he doesn't answer it. It's a local number that looks legit, so I rush to pick it up. 

"Hello?"

*silence*

"Hello??"

"Uh...who's this?" squeaks a small voice.

*You* called *me,* kid. That's not the way this works.

It's his classmate calling, whose last name my son couldn't remember.

Once again, the two boys arrange to meet at the neighborhood pool two doors down and play Roblox on their devices. Right now. And my daughter joins in, thrilled to go meet her big brother's friend, despite not having any electronic device. However, my son's phone is my old phone circa 2015, without network access, and it only connects to the web via wifi, which is only at our house and does not reach to the neighborhood pool down the street. 

He's not going to be able to play Roblox at the pool.

No matter how I try to explain, I can't convince my son of this. So off he goes.

A full 30 minutes pass and the kids don't come back. Surely they can't still be trying to access Roblox. This can only mean my son has been stood up for a third time. 

Now I'm angry. At this classmate for leading on my son with the temptation of friendship, at my son for not listening to me about his phone, at this whole continuing, confusing situation.

The caller ID tells me the classmate's last name is Byrne, which is a lot like Burn and Bird but not quite. 

I Google the last name plus the name of our suburb. There IS a Dave Byrne right here in our fair city! 

IN A NEIGHBORHOOD 10 MILES FROM HERE.

When my dejected and confused son finally drags his feet back home, I make him call this kid. I make him ask the kid's address. 

The classmate recites a number, which my child repeats to me. Exasperated, about to blow up, I point out: "That's the NUMBER. I need the STREET." 

My son says, "It's Gorilla Street."

THERE IS NO GORILLA STREET IN THE CITY WHERE WE LIVE.

Barely containing my frustration, I tell him, "There is no Gorilla Street where we live. Could it be TERRELL street?" 

Yes. Yes it is. 

They have been meeting at neighborhood pools 10 miles apart.

Although they are currently on the phone together, in the end they don't play Roblox. The other kid has to go do his homework and it doesn't occur to my precious child to get his classmate's user name right now, while they're talking. Instead my son says he'll call back later. 

I said no, you will not. You will see him tomorrow at school. I can't handle any more today.