Some of you already know that kids and I are tight.  In fact, it’s gotten so that I’m actually surprised when some random kid I’ve never met DOESN’T run up and give me a high-five.  I think kids don’t view me as a threat because I both look and act like one of them.  And I love it  (being tight with kids, not being childish.  The childish thing is probably something I should work on…).

Daniel and I were discussing our summer plans, and my part of the conversation went something like this:  “So, August 1 is going to be a busy day.  G is getting baptized and I hope it’s at a different time than Z’s birthday party, because I really want to be there for him, plus his party is at Chuck E Cheese.”

I should explain that in my faith (and G’s faith) (Mormon), it is customary to be baptized when one reaches the age of eight.  This is the case with G.  Z is turning seven.   Yes, my busy schedule revolves around celebrations for pre-pubescent boys.  And I love it (not in a creepy way).

One of my best friends has two beautiful daughters and I’m tight with them, too.   Because they know me in a religious context (again, Mormon) it is customary for them to call me by my last name, preceded by “Sister.”

Once when I was babysitting them, the younger girl (we’ll call her LaLa) said to me:  “Sista Smith, if I’m really good, can I be naked?”

I SO didn’t know what to say to that.  I mean, who am I to deprive someone of that primal need to be naked?  And she sounded so sincere.

But her sister interrupted.  “Nuh-uh.  My mom says she’s not allowed to be naked!”  I loved both her big-sister tone and the fact that this scenario had obviously occurred before.

Oh LaLa, my sista.  I feel ya.

The other day, I was hanging out with one of my writer friends and her sons, two of my favorite boys.  One of them was introducing me to his cousin:  “Janie, this is Emily.  Someday soon I’m going over to her house to watch Clone Wars.”  Which is 100% true.  I have about a million episodes of Clone Wars on my DVR, ready for him.

Lately I’ve been feeling unfulfilled.  Like, “Wow, what am I actually doing with my life?  I’ve only published one book, and my next one doesn’t come out for another year and a half.  Maybe I need to get a real job.”  Only how can I?  I would totally miss out on moments like these.

This entry was posted on Thursday, July 9th, 2009 at 9:07 am and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.