Last night as the weekend started in full swing….I had a small, sweet moment with my 13 year old daughter.
She decided to come with me to the far away wedding. I was grateful for the company and even more excited to have some alone time with her in the car.
She’s a quiet girl. It’s half nothing-to-say and half keeping-to-herself.
Half an hour into the drive I asked her if there was anything she wanted to talk about. You know, something that has been nagging at her but she never gets me alone so she doesn’t say it.
She said no.
Are you sure? Nothing? Nothing at all no matter how small?
No ma’am. I’m good.
So we chatted about the lighter things. Math, jewelry, Louisa May Alcott books.
Then she got quiet. She said in a serious tone, “Well, actually there is something I have been wanting to ask you. Can I ask you about it now?”
Of course my darling! I am your mother and I long for you to share your heart with me.
OK, I didn’t say that. I just said, “Sure.”
She is pensive. She pauses to find just the right words. I am bracing myself for a question that will cause me to reach far down into my womanhood to answer. A moment between mother and daughter that will stretch beyond my lifetime and she will pass on to her daughters.
“Well,” she says quietly, pausing for effect, “Some of my clothes are getting lost in the laundry and I am getting really tired of it.”
Oh well…..that IS serious. LOL!
It wasn’t the pondering question I had hoped for, but it is a problem around here.
So we spent the better part of the rest of the drive discussing solutions. She feels she is ready to do what I do, her own laundry. Her oldest sister caught on to this a couple of years ago. If you do your own laundry then nothing gets lost in a little boy drawer or the linen closet.
It is a step into adulthood for her. She has crossed over. She will never again have her laundry handed to her all clean and sorted and folded. It is forever her responsibility, forever her burden.
Wow….I can turn anything into something deep, can’t I?