Paper or Plastic?

My friend B and I walk most Sunday mornings, and this past Sunday was no exception. We pretend our walks are about getting fresh air and exercise, but in reality, we walk because it is too early to drink wine in the morning, and crying uncontrollably over the Sunday paper every week seems a little nutsy, even to us. So we walk, and we talk, and no matter what the topic, B always manages to top me, effortlessly. I like to think it is because her life and the people in it are crazier than mine, but I suppose crazy is relative. And whose relatives aren't crazy? Even, or especially, the kids.

I told B about my rough Saturday night. My family had movie night, and we watched "Return of the Jedi" as both my daughters are solidly in their Star Wars phase. I forgot how long that movie was, and how creepy the Ewoks were, and after toothbrushing and storytime, my 8 year old daughter was too scared to get to sleep, what with images of Jabba the Hutt licking his mouth slit and Darth Vadar without his breathing apparatus terrorizing her when she shut her eyes.

I had to climb into her twin bed with her and tell her all the reasons she didn't need to be scared, including the fact that creepy primitive teddy bears were not going to chant "jub jub" in her room and attack her with spears. We covered everything that might be frightening, from the scratching of the squirrels trying to dismantle the attic for more acorn storage to the fact that no evil lurked in the shadows of her bedroom (which I am not able to state with absolute certainty, but did sound convincing at the time).

She tried her hardest to convince me that the only way she truly felt safe was having me with her always. I pointed out that she was eight, not two, and that she was old enough to understand that she could be safe even if her mommy was not by her side 24/7. She decided that she would try to sleep alone, but if she couldn't, she would, and I am quoting her, "perform a quiet activity" in her room such as coloring. I explained that quiet activities did not make one fall asleep, but since Tylenol PM did, and I already had one, I was finished talking about it for the night.

When I woke up the next morning, I found out she had performed a quiet activity after all. On her nightstand was a realistic likeness of me on a Kleenex, complete with a good night message. She even folded the bottom of the Kleenex over my tissue legs to tuck me in for the night. I told B about the Mommy Kleenex, which will be yet one more thing made of paper in my house that I will not be allowed to throw away. And then B did it; she topped the pocket mommy.

B told me how she went to check on her almost 7 year old before our walk and found her daughter using the computer, a Ziploc bag filled with water next to her on the desk. B, being the unassuming person she is, asked her daughter why there was a baggie filled with water next to her keyboard. Her daughter smiled at her and answered it was her imaginary goldfish. B calmly asked her to not keep the fish bag next to the computer, and left to walk with me. I laughed when she told me, as B has two real pets that were both being ignored by her daughter in favor of the bag of water.

When we returned to her house, we sat at the kitchen table, drinking water out of my favorite Pump It Up plastic kids’ cups, and who comes down the stairs but her daughter, still carrying around her Ziploc bag. She held it up proudly for me to see, all 15 of her imaginary goldfish pretend swimming in a small sandwich bag.

“Wanna help me teach my imaginary fish how to color?” she asked.

“Sure,” I answered, and she handed me a computer printout of a lemur from the PBS kids website. And the three of us sat at the table, coloring, the water in the bag jiggling slightly from the movement of our crayons on the paper.

“You know, B,” I said. “You really ought to write Ziploc and tell them how great their product is.”
“You’re right,” she answered. “I should.”

So which is odder, a mommy Kleenex or a Ziploc bag filled with water? I don’t know, but you can see why a Sunday morning cocktail is not such a bad idea. After a couple of drinks, it wouldn’t matter who tops whom.