Last year Violet had these little friends, twins, who called her every day after school. It was so cute. They chatted and learned how to actually hold a phone conversation. (you don't sit and watch the television, say nothing, then go, "Kay, bye.") One day Violet thrust the phone into my hand and said, "Marina and Sabrina's* mom wants to talk to you. We want to have a play date." Eventually a grown up came on the phone.
She didn't introduce herself, just said, "What day would Violet like to get off the bus with Marina and Sabrina?"
I have never spoken with you. I've never laid eyes on you. I don't know your name. Know where you live. Know if you are a convicted child molester, serial killer, have Hannibal Lector living in your basement. I thought we'd get together for an afternoon coffee while our girls played, not just drop one off on the door step like a FedEx package.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence while all this played out in my head, then I cleared my throat and said, "Oh, well, we're SO busy, it's just crazy! And with the other two kids I have? Nuts! Insane! So would it be OK with you if the girls played here?" And the woman said, "Which twin do you want to play with?"
I'm sorry? I'm going to 'choose' a twin? How would that conversation go? "Well, Sabrina, Miss Kim thinks you're going to be the best behaved, so you get to go to Violet's house. Better luck next time, Marina!" No, thank you. So I told her we'd have our play date with both twins, and wasn't I awesome?
|Violet's 4th Birthday part. |
Fancy Nancy Style
*names have been changed