There are some things I simply REFUSE to do.
My best friend, Randi, however, will do them. I suppose that’s how she landed her “new guy” Mike, she just starting dating.
She goes to sci-fi movies…and actually likes them. (Not me!) She’s into fantasy football. (Again, NOT me.) And she enjoys golfing. She took me once. It made my face hurt. Long story short…I “chunked”…a LOT…(apparently that’s when you hit the ground – hard– instead of the ball), days after having my wisdom teeth removed.
Mike and Randi have known each other for a very, very long time – at one point even being business partners – so this relationship has my blessing. Tonight, he’s taking her to a wine tasting fund-raiser in Myrtle Beach and she has been on a ferocious hunt for shoes to go with the purple dress she bought earlier in the week. Royal purple velvet, strapless, and slit up to here…Mike won’t stand a chance.
Today I am going through boxes and boxes of our shoes. There is no way I am bringing these old soles with us to either Cape Cod or Myrtle Beach when we move. Ballet slippers, tap shoes, cleats, heels, boots,espadrilles, flip-flops, flats, wedges, sneakers and slippers – all colors and all sizes. (And smells….YUCK! Who knew girls’ feet could smell SOOOOO bad??)
In one of the boxes was a small sparkly pair of pink princess sneakers – Daughter#4’s (the six year old), from back when she was about two and a half – three years old. On the left shoe was a brown smudge, and in an instant, I was transported back in time.
We were at this really great little shop called The Peanut Principle in Latham, on a boiling August afternoon. Besides having all sorts of nuts and dried fruit and chocolates that they make on site, they also have an ice cream window that boasts an impressive number of flavors. At that time I was seven months pregnant with Daughter #5 and I waddled up to the window and ordered. Good ol’ chocolate cones – four of them. And one in a cup.
An ungodly shriek cut the heavy, humid air, “AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” my littlest screamed, every eyeball (as usual) trained on us, “I want mine in a CONE!!!! I want mine in a CONE!!! I want mine in a CONE!!!”
And against my better judgement, I changed my order to “five chocolate CONES, please”, already feeling the “oh crap, that was really dumb” sensation settling over me.
We waited, as patiently as a family with four little kids under ten, can wait in the grueling heat – fanning ourselves as we played keep away with the bees. FINALLY…………the cones were ready and we retrieved our frozen delights.
“I wanna do it myself,” my littlest whined, “me!! me!!”
“Sweetheart, let me show you how to hold it properly,” I smiled.
“NO!” she snatched the cone out of my hand and turned her back to me, hiding her precious ice cream.
She didn’t eat her cone, just peeked over her shoulder, watching her sisters and me enjoy ours. Within a moment, the chocolate started dribbling down her cone and coating her hands. And her new sneakers.
“Darling,” I grabbed a handful of napkins and attempted to clean her up a little, “I think I need to lick it first, otherwise we are going to have a complete mess here. Give it to me.”
Again, “NO!!” from the little, ahem, “angel”.
I tried every trick I had learned from the previous three girls when confronted with the same situation, and eventually, she thrust out her hand – at exactly the same moment as I was lowering my face to her level. Chocolate ice cream exploded ALL OVER my face, my hair…all over everything. I was a complete mess. And we laughed so hard. It was certainly an interesting drive home – it was such a fun day.
I closed the top to the box with the little sneakers. Sigh….the years are flying by sooo quickly. Toooooo quickly. I really need to learn to listen to those, “oh crap, that was really dumb” sensations. And soon – way before I have FIVE teenage girls in the house.
A quick P.S. to Mike…roses, Dude, just sayin’….they’ll help YOU avoid that “oh crap, that was really dumb” sensation.