When we moved to this neighborhood, I was trying to figure out how to describe it, and the best I could come up with was that I felt as if we were living in the “tract house that we share somewhere that’s green” from Little Shop of Horrors — it’s a safe, quiet neighborhood full of little houses with kids and dogs playing in the yard. An ice-cream truck comes through now and then, and there’s a mom-and-pop grocery store a couple of miles away. It’s like the whole neighborhood is secretly a wormhole to 1958.
This afternoon, I was on the phone with my mom when the little girl across the street wandered onto my porch to do something I’d read about but never actually seen anyone do:
She asked to borrow a cup of milk, because she’d run out in the middle of making something.
I had to ask her to repeat the request, because it was just too perfect to be believed. I’d just been thinking about how much I love living in Red Fork and how excited I am about working for our Main Street program, and here came my young neighbor to confirm what I’d long suspected: I live in the best neighborhood in Tulsa.
A cup of milk.
I think we just one-upped the popsicle test.
Emily