My daughter found one of my journals about 6 months ago in a box in the garage. "Can I read this?" she asked? I'd put it off for a while. I wanted to read it first. I'd flipped through a few pages "Today I had girl scouts. It was fun." was the gist if it.
It was 1978. I was eleven.
She asked again this week. I agreed. She picked it up and tucked it under her arm as we headed toward the car.
About 15 minutes into her silent reading, she spoke. "Mom. You wrote some *bad*words....." "really?" I said. I was a pretty "benign" kid, so I was curious. "What did I write?"
There was that I-am-NOT-going-to-say-THAT silence. "What letter did it start with?" I asked. "A...." she said. "Is it followed by a couple of S's?" I asked. "uh-huh...."
My son audibly gasped...
"I guess I must have been pretty mad, huh...."
"yeah.... at your DAD!" She said. (yeah, sounds right, I thought....)
More time passed. "I know why you wrote in green pen on this day...." "Why...?" "You were just starting girl scouts...." (she's probably right!)
More time passed. "You learning anything else about me?" "Yeah.... you did soccer and gymnastics too...."
It was kind of interesting hearing the perceptions of my daughter, looking back on my life - when I was just a little older than she is. Wow.
She did bring the "bad word" business up again.... which worked well.... It gave me an opportunity to let her know that was before I had learned not to say such things....
"Yeah.... glad you learned...." she said....
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment