I forget where we were.
oh yeah. Your Dad is in the kitchen, and I am there to see your sister. You just can't stand it. You want me to see you too. You are, what about me? And of course you are.
So I ask, "Where's your guitar?"
And you are totally not into the pink plastic minnie thing. You are wanting something you know you can't have. I say, "uhuh. That's not your's. Come find your's."
You point to the second shelf, "Gheetar?"
"No. Not your's. Go find your's."
You return to the living room with me but instead of finding your's you find a barstool. And we all begin to watch as you pick up something bigger than you and carry it all the way back to that closet. You have all the rooms and sometimes you stop and look back and see that we're all looking and yes, you do have the room and a workout routine because pushing that barstool isn't the easiest thing you'll ever do. You're tough, kid. I give you that.
Your Dad, your sister, and me, we all laugh.
I think that is the most fun part of it for you. Us watching and laughing and yeah, awman this is awesome . Until you finally make it to Everest and you are assessing the climb and I walk into the room and say, "I have to take this away."
You don't even cry. You just calmly follow me back to where your Dad and sister are. I would almost be willing to place a bet that you were never as interested in that guitar as you were the attention. I get it, kid.
Today I am grateful for a girl's night out, for the two old girls and two young girls, for coon and going on a bear hunt and do we want to be outside or inside or no, the spoon is on the floor and no, you can't have another one and if I could change anything about dinner the next girl's night out will be a picnic on the floor of the living room. I should have turned that chair around when you wanted to see behind you.