The Calm Before The Parental Duty Storm

[captain_slinky]

Saturday night, as we were leaving my parents house there was a bit of miscommunication between Molly, Crystal and I that lead to me telling Molly that her scooter was already in the mini-van, which is why I will be making a very hasty trip up to Mount Vernon this morning.

Linus had his blanket, Calvin had his stuffed tiger, Crystal had a doll named Brianna, I had my stack of comic books... Molly's inanimate childhood companion is her scooter (named "Scootera", which is pronounced "Scooter-uh"). Any time Molly looks out the window and sees that it's not raining, she drags me outside so she can put on a show for me in the cul de sac. She has grand adventures beyond compare on that thing that the adult mind can barely comprehend!

When I opened the back of the mini-van and found that Scootera had ben left behind, Molly TRIED to show a brave face. She TRIED to play with other stuff outside. She choked back tears for a few minutes, but then the waterworks started.

It wasn't a complaint, it wasn't a manipulation, it wasn't about trying to get something - it was a pure expression of grief over the loss of a friend. It was so sad! In trying to console her, I offered to drive back to grandma's house first thing in the morning, and that made her feel a *little* better.

Once Crystal heard about my plan though, she was quite upset. "We can't affords another drive up there this week! We can't cave in and just fix every little problem for her! You need to tell her that she'll just have to wait till Friday. I agreed, and so we went outside to break the news to Molly.

Before we could even bring up the subject of Scootera, Molly was in Crystal's arms sobbing about how much she missed her scooter. Before we knew it, Crystal was consoling her and saying "Don't worry, Daddy will go get it tomorrow..."

There's a real and tangible power in human contact that can over ride logic any time :)

Comments

[hannah easterson (from livejournal.com)]

I had Mr. Ted E. Bear. Ted and I were inseperable, so much so that mom had NIGHTMARES regarding the chaos that would insue if he were irrevokably lost. As such, we made trips to school, the grocery store, and mom's places of work in order to rescue mr. bear whenever he might have been left behind. I remember once he had been left on the bench of a "Children's World" Daycare where mom had been the children's storyteller that day. This was not only a dire situation in that he had been left behind, but also that he had been left behind in a Children's World. If you've ever seen the toys in those places, as I have as mom's youngest assistant in her Storytelling business, you'll know that toys are not handled with the utmost respect as Mr. Bear is rather used to. We ran to the Children's World to find that it was closed, but Mr. Bear was still hanging out casually on the bench where I could see him through the glass door. After several frantic phone calls, at some expense I'm sure (this was very briefly pre-cell phone), the manager and several employees were summoned from their dinners at home to help a little girl save her Teddy bear. Thankfully, all of them understood the need for a childhood companion (or perhaps they, working in the day care business merely understood the impossibility and volume of a child who has lost something they love and, for my mother's sake, let us in). In short, I still remember that, even though I was probably only four or so, and appreciate the many people who submitted to the illogical bond between a child and their chosen object. Molly, who sounds substantially less manipulative than I was as a kid, will always appreciate having parents who respect the need to rescue a lost friend.

[dagna76.livejournal.com]

That is one of the sweetest stories Ive heard in a very long time! I would have caved too, Mom.