Goodnight has a busy spring schedule. She is in Track & Field, Drama Club, Fast-pitch Softball, Declamation, and has a piano recital coming up. Sometimes her practices are on the same day after school, but at least at different times.
It all can make for a very long day for her, but I have her come out to the car in between practices so she can eat some dinner and chat with me.
Today for example, I had a lovely compartmented tray wrapped in towels to keep her dinner warm. There was roasted turkey, roasted garlic potatoes and some applesauce. On my way out the door I stuck a fork in my pocket and then remembered she would need a spoon for the applesauce so I tossed one in my purse.
Goodnight came bouncing out to the car on time, climbed into the front seat and asked, “Is that for me?”
Gram: Yup! Good dinner, huh? How was Track?
GN: I don’t like the running.
Gram: It’s called Track and Field, honey. You knew that, right?
GN: I’m in it for the Field.
Gram: I don’t think it works that way. How’s your dinner?
GN: It’s great, Gram! Thanks a lot. I need a spoon for the applesauce.
Gram: I tossed one in my purse. You can get it.
She reached into my purse. It’s a bottomless pit, really. Not the new purple one, by the way. I have a newer YELLOW purse.
She couldn’t feel the spoon so she actually had to look inside and start digging. It wasn’t to be found.
GN: Um, Gram? Do you know you have broccoli in your purse?
Gram: Uh-huh. Want some?(trying not to act surprised)
I didn’t really throw it down in my purse carelessly or anything – but I had taken some fresh broccoli for lunch and did’t eat all of it so I wrapped it in a napkin and gently laid it in there, thinking I would grab the rest of it mid-afternoon or so. I didn’t have time for my broccoli snack, so there it stayed, gently jostling itself to the bottom of my purse and working its way out of the napkin.
I hate when that happens. Now I’m going to have to get all those little green things out of there. You know what I mean? The same little green parts that get stuck in your teeth. They’re down in the bottom of my purse.
But alas . . . no spoon for the applesauce.
Oh well, she didn’t have time. Back to the gym for Softball practice. I hope she’s not in it just for the throwing.
Goodnight told me that she and a friend of hers have a new slogan for their spring sporting adventures:
Short and Wide can Still Have Pride.
I wonder if I should skip the compartmented tray with such a nice dinner . . . nah.