Grace pops in with suggestions for the blog all the time.
“You should spend a day,” she said, probably as she killed a bag of Goldfish and watched The Amazing World of Gumball, “doing what I do and eating what I eat.” I imagined the horror of microwaved chicken nuggets and Spongebob Squarepants marathons.
I tucked the idea away in its appropriate Trello board and waited.
I told her Friday that today would be the day tomorrow. (Follow that?) I got up earlier than the kid, who requested a breakfast of champions before her home match: Pancakes (with batter similar to the waffles for people of all colors) topped with a fried egg.
So far, so good.
We didn’t even have time to tune in Shark Tank or paint fingernails or doodle around with her collection of succulents. Too bad especially on the last one. Grace has a love of plants and wants to play soccer at Wake Forest and become a botanist.
Unruly fans and beautiful plants
Meanwhile, I’m still trying to figure out what I’ll be when I grow up.
Grace gets lots of comments from the sideline. I don’t want them to go to her head, good or bad. She’s got skill, one mom said one night, but Hannah just needs to body slam her next time. Mostly, Grace ignores it, although she hears it, too.
They’re going to give the ball to 6! One opposing dad whined – and Grace looked at me mischievously. I hope the dad saw it.
Yep, it went to No. 6. And there she went. Dang! A dad on our side said this time, as Grace rifled a shot from just inside the midline that found what we in the biz call the top shelf. But this isn’t a post to boast about some kid playing soccer. (She’s pretty good, though.)
Grace asked if we could visit a small nursery after the game.
I followed her around the humid walkways. Grace found the succulents as quickly as she finds her way to the goal. We carried around one – called a dragon tail, I think – before she changed her mind and opted for a small pot with four tiny succulents in it.
Then I heard that familiar, subliminal message from the kid – QT! – whispered.
Spicy food and grocery sacks
Why do you whisper it? I asked as we turned off the gravel road toward the QuikTrip gas station. Because it’s a secret, she said, and I imagined her wedding catered with slushies and supreme pizza slices and spicy beef taquitos.
She made a mango slushie, and it was delicious.
We busted out our spicy beef taquitos and dunked them in ranch and it was a beautiful day. Grace later started to work on a cool environmental project. She cuts up T-shirts into reusable grocery sacks. It looks easy. Scoot over kid, I said. I started to chop and tie.
It’s not so easy, turns out.
They’re cool and they keep at least one plastic bag out of circulation when we remember to bring them. I’ve remembered a lot lately. I think she should sell them on Fiverr. Maybe $3 if you send your own shirt, $5 if she has to steal one of mine. What do you think?
The day, it turns out, was fun.
I got to spend it with a kid I’m crazy about. It was casual, on a gorgeous day. It involved stuff that makes my kid my kid: Soccer, spicy food, some craftiness. She’s a solid travel companion, keeping the radio station on Zepplin, even if she’s never heard of the song.
I’d even eat Goldfish and watch Zach and Cody Overboard or some such trash with a kid like her.