Timing is All

If you had seen me a few years back (okay, like 12) you'd probably have seen me with my friend C. Generously blessed with a beautiful smile, enviable cheekbones and an inherent sense of style, C was my sidekick in my single days. Together we went to clubs that are no longer in business, drank way too many things with the cute suffix -tini (flirtini! apple-tini!) and frolicked along the Boston sidewalks, waiting for our princes to come. More than a decade later, our tastes have changed in some ways, but not the important ones. True, marriage and children have made us more mature than material, but getting together still feels fun and light. Last week, we finally cleared some time to get together at the deCordova Sculpture Park and Museum http://www.decordova.org last week. Even though the weather and the littles schedules made our visit together a short one, it was wonderful to see each other. It was like no time had passed at all, which is the best kind of friendship, don't you think? In any case, I felt rejuvenated by seeing my dear friend, and though I could have talked to her all day, our small visit gave me a large dose of happy.

However, my daughter, like her grandmother, has the "more is more" philosophy when it comes to playdates. For example, last Friday, my parents and I took the Em and John to Chuck E. Cheese, which I usually don't enjoy. The food is usually mediocre, the noise level is unparalleled, and I have to spend a fortune to come home with a "prize" that usually breaks or gets lost immediately. But Em loves it. Anyway, our visit last week was surprisingly fun; the menu included a salad bar, John was happily noshing away on pizza crust, and Em played games, won a zillion tickets, and earned a licorice stick. A few hours later, full and happy, we headed home.

Whew, Game over, I thought while driving.
"Mommy?" Em perked up.
"What's up, pal?"
"Where are we going now?"
Going? Is she serious? I'm going to pass out. "We're going home now, Em. Aren't you tired?"
"Well, after we left Chuck E. Cheese, the fun kind of deflated out of the day."

I had to smile; not only did her use of the word "deflated" crack me up, but I realized she is at that wonderful point of childhood, where everything is magical and exciting. The romantic in me loves her desire for adventure and zest for more, while the realist in me wants to get home, wash her hands twelve times and feed her vegetables.

So I remind myself of the childhood memories I have, of the fun times that seemed like they lasted for hours. Maybe they were only moments. But when I look back on them, I get that same rejuvenated feeling. That same rush. And I smile.

Summer sighting: I actually shot baskets cleanly through the hoop. The things we do for love (and tickets at Chuck E. Cheese.)