(Maybe Inappropriate) Memory Lane

November 19, 2010

Lemon had a friend over today – one of my favorites of her friends.  And we were just chatting*about the social world of high school, and how some people have changed, and so forth.  I may or may not have suggested that on behalf of my daughter, I will find another 9th grader, and kick her in the shins.  Because she was mean.  To my daughter.  And hurt my daughter’s feelings.

Dear Friend said, “Oh!  My mom says that all the time!  Only she says ‘Want me to trip her next time I see her?'”

[No huge surprise, Dear Friends’ mom is also a Dear Friend.]

And so I told Dear Friend [14 yo version] a story, that the tripping/kicking reminded me of:

When my girls were wee, we lived in Berkeley, California.  I was trying desperately to be an appropriate Berkeley Hippie-Chick.  I sold my car, and got me and my kids around town with a bicycle.  Every now and then, I would leave my small children (5 and 7?) outside with the bike while I ran elsewhere.  What I remember most is parking the bike along the fence of my side-yard with the girls while I ran around the front to get the mail. And I would tell my sweet little girls, “Stay here with the bike.  If anyone tries to take it, what will you do?”

and they would respond, in a adorable cute-little-kid unison:


They were so cute.

They still are.  But now they’re tall.

Dear [14yo] friend used to be taller than Lemon.  Just a year ago, she was at least an inch taller.


Lemon is towering over her.  She’s long … Dear Friend, less so.

Time flies.


* My favorite thing about when the girls’ friends come over – the friends are always more likely to talk to me about what’s going on than the girls are themselves.  No exception here. I had been stressed about a recently-failed friendship of Lemon’s, and wasn’t sure I had the whole story.  But tonight, Dear Friend shared the story, and it’s in line with Lemon’s version, and clearly was hurtful to Lemon.  Shin-kick-worthy, for certain.


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