Sheldon sat by himself and watched the other children playing outside. His mother was obsessive about neatness, tidiness, cleanliness and order. She refused to let him be a little boy, doing little boy's things. Roy, her ex-husband had finally rebelled after years of trying to get her to seek help for her obsessive disorder. He had finally realised that he had a life to live and he needed to disconnect from her.
Sheldon loved the weekends that he spent with his father and only wished that the judge had given his father custody but his social worker had explained that this seldom happened. It was a decision that an 8-year-old boy could not fight. So every second weekend he got to live. One school holiday a year his father would have sole custody for two weeks and those were the times that Sheldon lived for. Those were the times that gave life meaning.
Fortunately, his mother had to go out to work to help make it to the month end. His father had been ordered to pay maintenance – something his father was happy to do because it meant that his beloved boy would be looked after. But it was only a small amount that his father could afford to give them
Very soon Sheldon learnt how to use the washing machine. He had asked his mom to show him so that he could make this one of his chores. In this way his mother never knew that he often came home from school with muddy, dirty clothes but with a smile on his face.
As he sat watching the other children in the road playing he counted his blessings.
One blessing was that there was always enough food in the place.
The second but probably biggest blessing was his friend Noah. Noah came from a pastor’s family but his family knew that little boys needed to get out and sometimes get rough and dirty. Noah lived two doors away so there was never any need for his mom to take him to Noah’s for “play dates”. He was also grateful that Noah’s home was sheltered by a very tall wall so even if his mom did just happen by she couldn’t see him playing in the back yard. Noah’s mom hated the deception but realised that she was providing a huge opportunity for a boy to be a boy.
As Sheldon sat watching he often caught Noah’s eye as he played hide and seek with the other children in the neighbourhood. Noah would often give him a small, almost hidden “thumbs up” and Sheldon knew that this meant that soon, the next day in fact, Sheldon would be with the gang.
Now why the archaic name Sheldon? Well, Sheldon’s mom had one little vice. She was a huge fan of the Big Bang Theory and her one hope was that the little baby that she held in her arms the day he was born would grow up to be a fastidious scientist so the choice of name, for her, was obvious. Roy had tried his level best to dissuade her but realised that small battles had to be surrendered if he wished to win the bigger battles. He just knew that he would do all in his power to make his little boy happy, no matter what it took.
And so Sheldon sat watching and waiting.
Waiting for school days when his friends would scoop him up and they could be boys together and he would answer to the name Don.
Waiting for the two weekends a month that he could enjoy a rough and tumble with his dad.
Waiting for the school holidays when he could run wild during the day, rush home and put his clothes in the machine while he had a bath and waited for his mom to get home to her pristine home and little, clean, angelic boy all nicely washed and scrubbed - waiting and looking out the window. She thought he was waiting to catch sight of her.
Sheldon gave a little smile when he realised that he had discovered a perfect way to live his life as a boy and yet make his mom happy. No thought entered his little 8-year-old mind that he was in training for a dual existence.
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