This one came while I was driving from my school to Gloria's school on Friday afternoon. Just driving and thinking. And then remembering...
When Gloria was about 3 years old, she had a strand of purple plastic beads. You know, like Mardi Gras beads. Don't really know where they came from. But she had them. She also loved Dora. One day, those beads became "Backpack." She would strap them across her shoulders, like a regular backpack. And she wore them e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. Not only that, "Boots" went with her. E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E.
To the park.
To the grocery store.
To the mall.
To church (and even up to communion)
To day care (but no Backpack there, and Boots was a secret--only I knew he was there.)
You name it, Boots and Backpack were there...
For a very long time.
You see "him?"
One day, Backpack broke.
I think she had outgrown the length of the beaded necklace.
And Backpack broke.
It was a sad day.
No other purple strand of plastic beads could replace Backpack.
Believe me, we tried...
Several different strands.
Nothing would do.
Eventually she moved on to other things. Instead of imaginary friends, there were imaginary children (all adopted from a tall building in California for some reason) and imaginary students (they're still around). All part of growing up, I suppose.
I don't know why that memory came at me out of the blue like it did. Maybe because we've had a rough few days. They came calling with meltdowns and temper tantrums of epic proportions, arguing over routine stuff that she usually does every day without a second thought. I can't do anything right. I can't say anything right. And if I don't say or do anything...well, that's wrong too. It's been rough. She's only eight so what does this mean for the teen-age years?!?
Makes me miss those days of Backpack and Boots.
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