My baby is on a bus to New York City. She left this morning at 5 am with the History Club from school. She’s going to see West Point and The Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island and Ground Zero and the musical Phantom of the Opera. And probably a gazillion other things she’s never seen in her life.
Now, I am a very practical mother. I don’t get overly sentimental about things and, while I love my child fiercely, I’m used to her going away on vacation with other people. So how come I keep seeing this face in my mind?
And how come, the minute she left, after I gave her all my last minute advice about being careful with her money and staying with the group and paying attention and not kissing any boys, how come a million other things I should have told her started playing in my head? Things like, call me when you get there and don’t talk to strangers and wear a shirt over the skimpy bikini you talked me into buying because there’s a pool at the hotel. Sigh.
I’m sure she’ll be fine but, Betty? And Juno? And Cassie? You guys know me so could you do me a favor and keep an eye out for her? If you see her, stick some yarn in her hand and get her back on that bus, please.
I took this picture last Thursday when we went to see Wicked (which was wicked good, by the way) so this is what she looks like right now.
Kind of like me only younger and thinner and prettier. And everyone else, would you send good, safe thoughts in her general direction? Those of you who have kids young enough to know where they are every minute, enjoy it while it lasts. Because before you know it, they’ll be on a bus going somewhere without you. And you’ll be at home, knitting furiously, trying to stay calm about the whole thing.