It's easy for me to dismiss her concerns; as a matter of fact, that's pretty much what I've been doing. She'll have plenty to do this summer, and I'm sure she'll see all kinds of people.
Yesterday, however, I started to think about what to post on the blog. My last post was on Monday, and believe it or not, I try not to let too much time pass between posts.
I've been turning over a specific post in my head for the past few months. I've been planning on writing something about a friend of mine, and wasn't exactly sure how I wanted it to go.
As I was going over different ideas, a thought struck me about this friend: We met in preschool or Kindergarten, I can't remember which. We were just about the same age Adelaide is now when we became friends, and I can't imagine my mom trying to keep us away from each other for an entire summer.
Several of my favorite memories of Megan involve summertime events.
I'm pretty sure it was during the summer when she had a slumber party that included a friend of ours who didn't happen to attend our little parochial school with us. When we learned she hadn't been baptized, our little Lutheran souls cried out in panic, and we baptized her right there in Megan's basement. Now I'm wondering if we even asked Molly if she wanted to be baptized before dumping cups of cold water over her head. Poor Molly.
I'm thinking it was also summertime when I was again over at Megan's house one night, and we were watching an episode of Days of Our Lives she had taped during the afternoon. (Wait, you mean all young girls don't watch daytime soap operas? Weird.) We were pretty enthralled with the episode, featuring a demon-possessed Marlena. We watched right up until there was a close-up of Marlena's face- her yellow demonic eyes were the size the baseballs on Megan's parents' big-screen TV. We decided to do something else- like make our own soap opera and video tape it- and turned it off.
I know it was during some summer or another when we were at my house, and decided to walk down the hill to the creek. We had just reached its banks when Megan suddenly began screaming, wheeled around, and ran as fast as she could toward my house. I looked and began screaming and running, too, until my brain caught up with my body, and I began laughing hysterically, hands braced on my knees, struggling to breathe because I was laughing so hard. To be fair, if you saw an alligator sunning itself mere feet away from you, you'd probably freak, too. I somehow managed to communicate to Megan that the alligator was a statue that belonged to the neighbor whose land runs parallel to the creek. It's the only gator I've ever seen in Kansas. We still laugh about it today.
Living two states away, I don't get to see my friend as often as I'd like, but since returning to the Midwest, we do get to see each other a couple times a year. We laugh and catch up and she does things like paint Adelaide's toenails. It's the kind of friend she is.
|(Pardon Molly-the-doll. In addition to being a bloodthirsty nightmare in our home, she's kind of an attention hog.)|
What kind of mother would I be if I kept Adelaide from friends like that?