We closed on our house today. The Berrys have a home of our very own now. Wow. A home. We’ll have to get a Welcome mat, or a little sign that hangs above the door that says, “Berry’s B-Hive, EST: 2006″ Our little beehive is even yellow and black. How appropriate.
We went over to the house tonight to watch the “Phone Guy”, as Beckett affectionately called him, install our phone service. Well, we didn’t really go there to WATCH him. But we went to let him in to do his “Phone Guy” business. I brought over a few blankets, glasses, some ice, and a portable radio. Basil brought home a chicken and some Sun Chips, a bottle of champagne, and a dozen roses. We parked it in the middle of our new living room floor, and had our first Berry picnic in our new house.
For weeks, Beckett has been saying, “Wanna go to NEW house.” With the emphasis on the NEW. And when he’s in the new house, he runs and jumps, and plays like he belongs there. It’s going to be his childhood home. I hope he loves the house as much as I loved the one I grew up in just around the corner.
But if he’s going to live in Anderson, he’s going to have to drop this Boston accent he’s picked up on the hippy school playground. I’m not kidding. The kid sounds like he could’ve been Matt Damon’s diction coach on the set of Good Will Hunting.
When we play the “Where’s the…” game, and Beckett points and answers, “Right, dee’ah!” or asks if he can go watch Elmo and sit in his “Chee’ah”, I just smile and hope that his accent will grow into more of a Jack Kennedy style of New-England-Old-Money-Charm, and that he’ll wind up sounding a little less like Cliff from Cheers by kindergarten.
But ya gotta admit. The kid looks wicked good in his gee’ah!
