Best Friends Forever
Aug. 13th, 2011 08:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Madeline, Andrew, and I spent a lot of time at our local pool this summer. Madeline and I, much to Malkhos's chagrin, have very deep tans because of it (he doesn't like tans because it causes wrinkles and prematurely ages the skin, making one look old before her time; also, because he refuses to accept my lot is rather peasant-ish rather than aristocratic; white-armed Nausikaa, that's me all right). The only upside, I suppose, is that once in a while when he catches me stepping out of the shower, he says I look like a pin-up girl from the 1950's since they didn't have tanning beds in those days; all the models had tan lines like I have.
Anyway, summer is winding down and Andrew and Madeline go to school on Monday. This will be Madeline's first year in school full-time as a kindergartener, and I believe she is looking forward to it. Madeline loves to make friends with other children, and no teacher could ever hope to have a more cooperative, sweet child in her classroom (Andrew is a very good student, too, but he's a dawdler).
Today while we were at the pool for probably one of the last times this year--the pool closes in about a month--Madeline and I were making our mid-afternoon trip out to the car so I could check my phone to see if my mother, who was babysitting the Augustulus, had called to report any crises with the baby. As we left the area, the young man at the front, who knows us well because we're season pass holders, gave Madeline her hand stamp for re-entry because he knows she likes the hand stamp. I don't usually get the stamp because, really, 1950's pin-up girls shouldn't have stamps of frogs or smiley faces on their hands, should they?
Today, though, the stamp was a heart and beneath it, the words "Friends Forever." Madeline insisted I get it too, so I did. As we walked across the parking lot, she took my hand.
"Mama," she said. "When I go to school, I'll make friends and maybe even a best friend."
"Yes," I said. "Doubtless you will. You're such a sweetheart everybody will want to be your friend."
"But Mama," she said. "Even if I have a best friend, I'll just be pretending. You'll always be my best friend forever."
I sighed. I hope so. I really do.
Anyway, summer is winding down and Andrew and Madeline go to school on Monday. This will be Madeline's first year in school full-time as a kindergartener, and I believe she is looking forward to it. Madeline loves to make friends with other children, and no teacher could ever hope to have a more cooperative, sweet child in her classroom (Andrew is a very good student, too, but he's a dawdler).
Today while we were at the pool for probably one of the last times this year--the pool closes in about a month--Madeline and I were making our mid-afternoon trip out to the car so I could check my phone to see if my mother, who was babysitting the Augustulus, had called to report any crises with the baby. As we left the area, the young man at the front, who knows us well because we're season pass holders, gave Madeline her hand stamp for re-entry because he knows she likes the hand stamp. I don't usually get the stamp because, really, 1950's pin-up girls shouldn't have stamps of frogs or smiley faces on their hands, should they?
Today, though, the stamp was a heart and beneath it, the words "Friends Forever." Madeline insisted I get it too, so I did. As we walked across the parking lot, she took my hand.
"Mama," she said. "When I go to school, I'll make friends and maybe even a best friend."
"Yes," I said. "Doubtless you will. You're such a sweetheart everybody will want to be your friend."
"But Mama," she said. "Even if I have a best friend, I'll just be pretending. You'll always be my best friend forever."
I sighed. I hope so. I really do.
From LJ |
From LJ |