My daughter still likes to give me hugs in public, really tight like she means it. The kind where her arms fold over and around my neck, like they were meant to meet there. She still yells out my name, when I pick her up from school, like I’m Santa with a bag full of toys for her. She jumps up and down and yells “Mommy! Mommy!”
She still calls me her best friend and not just because it’s what I want to hear. We are best friends. Always together and BFFs to the core. She is the most prominent and permanent fixture at my side. If I had a pouch I’d put her in it, like a big Kangaroo, a flyer, with her joey (yes, Google just taught me that a baby kangaroo is called a “joey” and a female kangaroo is called a “doe” or “flyer”). This blog may teach me something yet.
Then, Grandma comes to visit…and I’m second fiddle. I’m chopped liver. Chopped liver? Does that really make sense? Google just taught me that it used to be a Jewish side dish and not a main one. So, basically, they meant to say, “What am I? A side dish?”
The minute grandma gets off the plane, it’s grandma this and grandma that. “Grandma, can I sit next to you?”
“Grandma, what are you doing?”
“Grandma, will you play with me?”
“Grandma, you’re my best friend.”
Ruh, Roh. Best friend? Just one cotton-picking minute! On two counts! First, cotton picking? Huh? Google just taught me this term sparked in the 17th century. Cotton picking was a dirty, nasty and sweaty business. Even one minute of it was terrible. So, really, an updated version is “Wait just one laundry folding minute!”
Secondly, best friend? This little girl was taking this too far. Have I been demoted to servant for the week without any pay or benefits? Without any hugs, kisses or love? I make sure she has food to eat. I cut up her food. I make sure she gets a bath. I make sure her birthday party next week is all ready, pulling out all of the stops. I even wipe her a$$. And, grandma has been promoted to best friend? What’s wrong with this picture?
All jokes aside, I’m glad she gets to spend a couple of weeks out of the year visiting with grandma. It’s good that they get to know each other. Of course, Google just told me to say that.