Thursday, December 18, 2008
Fibrous pea pods mashing in my teeth, I wrapped my scarf around my neck again since it kept slipping and looked over my shoulder watching my footsteps appear in the slushy snow. The peas brought me back to spring. The snow back to the current. Adrianna and I made a lovely snowman this afternoon. I had the peapod in my pocket because we had no carrots in the fridge for a nose so Moses suggested using the pea instead. We used a stick in the end, thus when I slipped my hand into the wool corner, I found it. I could see Carolina's school now. i thought of this mornign when i took her to school. Kitty corner to her desk a boy with mussed, dusty brown hair and brown eyes said something to greet "Sunny." He told her "You need to get a paper and write your name on it." Seeing me he seemed to address the rest of his conversation comfortable with both of us hearing, "We're frosting gingerbread cookies today! I am going to make one for Sunny. It will be great." Sunny beamed when she heard they were making cookies as she tried to shovel in her biscuit cheese breakfast. We were a few minutes late to class so i was helping her get settled in faster by taking her jacket andd backpack off and putting them in her locker and following her request to remove the canadian bacon slice in her sandwich and the egg (which she said didn't tast good.) The garbage disposal in me shoveled them in my own mouth discreetly and I
admit I even agree the egg wasn't so great. I took note of the boys nametag on his desk. I had a feeling this must be "Arizona." Three days ago when I picked Carolina up from school her girlfriend was giddy to share with me "Sunny got a note from Arizona!" Sunny smiled a sheepish one tooth missing smile (since then, she is now missing both her front teeth) and had a glimmer of excitement and willingness to share with me more about "the note." So Sunny pulled from her backpack a wrinkled, well-read note that said, "I love you Sunny." It also had a hand drawn heart. As we walked through the soccer field homeward i asked her what she thought about it. She said with an understated heffalump sort of a laugh, "I dunno!" Still smiling all the while, mind you. She mentioned, "Wait till i tell Dad. i know he's gonna laugh." My delight in this whole episode comes from the ease in which she felt telling dear old Mom and Dad. When we got home she had sort of moved on to other things and i pulled her aside and asked her if it was all right if I told Dad. She said it was and shyly ran to the edge of the room so it might appear she wasn't around but she was still at comfortable hearing distance to hear the reaction. She had pinned her note to her wall as well. She must not be too ashamed of this admirer. She also showed it off to another friend that came to play afterschool the next day. Ahh, her first love letter.