…or maybe something a little more.
Diligent Candy once memorably said – I judge you by the socks you wear. In the good old days when we were little college going chits she wore socks with little clocks and snails. I love her pictures, her writing, her son, her husband’s beautiful singing voice… and I go to her awesome blog for quick pick-me-ups. Brevity is her forte (clearly not mine).
This morning school reopened after a long winter break. As I dressed my babies and hugged their unusually substantial, padded figures I felt a little sad. Another year come to an end, another winter going by. What will I do once they go away? What do others do when their children leave home? How does a job or a hobby substitute this little squirmy thing you took out of your stomach and deposited in your heart? (Fortunately, I have laid claim to the family’s share of cheese and corn so no one else will subject you to such lines.)
The children are happy little red cheeked faces that wave bye from the school gate as I deposit them there, my hands lingering on their shoulders longer than they should. The Brat is running down the driveway to his class so I turn to walk away. Just then a little boy yells out to his father – Bye Papa! And I turn around and run back to the gate because I know.. I just do. And yes, the Brat remembers and has stopped and run back to the gate to shout out – Bye Mamma! His eyes search for me and I say a little thank you to the instinct that sent me back. He grins and this time runs away without a backward glance, his friends, his school, the new year calling out to him.
I turn away, satisfied. And then I look down at my feet in horror. My son let me drop him to school wearing these.
And he didn’t say a word. God bless you son – I’ll aim to embarrass you as much as I can, just to see how far I can push the envelop.
Go ahead then. Judge me. Candy, I know you still love me.