Independence
December 6, 1998
6:53 p.m.
I'll finish this story someday, i promise.   Brigid bought Christmas presents yesterday. Her school is doing the Secret Santa bit, and she wanted to get something for her piano teacher. I helped her wrap them today. Of course, she didn't really want any help. She's ten, you know, and apparently the age of independence is about right there. She got the tape and a pair of scissors, then slipped quietly upstairs. I was working on something else for a few minutes, and by the time I arrived on the scene she already had the paper out and was working to cut a swath that would fit her first present. She held onto the paper and ran the scissors along the path without actually doing the scissors action, slicing rather than cutting. I told her to cut (figuring that might go better), but she looked up at me and said "Mama does it this way." Sure enough, she did just fine, only needing to snip a little at the end of her run. "You can do the tape," she said, suddenly realizing I didn't have a job and wasn't going away. So I did the tape. The next one I pointed out that she needed a little extra material on one side so the paper would cover the entire box when she rolled it up, but I realized she would have figured that out by herself in a few short minutes. She got out the ribbon and tied off a couple packages. Yeah, she could have "curled" the ribbons better (is there a technical term for making the ribbons do that tight twisty thing?"), and the edges of the paper sometimes stick out a little funny, but they look just fine as they are. Before I knew it, the packages were wrapped and I really hadn't done much but put a finger here or there and make a comment or two (none of which were really appreciated for their tremendous insite, you know?) Lisa sent me to the grocery store, today, too. She sent Brigid with me to make sure I came back with all the right stuff. Brigid led me through the store, ordered the shaved turkey (making sure it was the Sara Lee brand her mother wanted) and an extra quarter pound of salami (that her mother hadn't asked for, but happens to be Brigid's favorite). She picked through the lettuce and knew exactly what milk to get and what bread to buy. At least I got to drive ... and pay, of course. I cut a deal tonight. If Brigid gets her chores done early, I told her I would read to her from 7:30 until her lights out time (which is 8:30). Usually her bedtime is 8:00, and we're always running a little late, so I don't spend much more than 15 minutes telling her bedtime story. But I'm making an exception tonight. Tonight I'm going throw myself into her story. I'm going to watch her when I read. I'm going to talk about the story and ask her questions about what she thinks. And I'm going to rememeber Skyfox and Puff the Magic Dragon, and The Boode and the Doo, and Goldiebrigid and the Three Bears, and all the other stories I've told her throughout her life. And when I kiss her goodnight I'm going to give her the biggest hug I can. Because there will be a day, not so far away anymore, when she'll do it all herself.  Daily Persistence is © Ron Collins |
|
"The finest inheritance you can give to a child is to allow it to make its own way, completely on its own feet." Isadora Duncan |
BACK TO 
|