On Saturday afternoon, #8 and I had an enjoyable mother-daughter excursion to Michael’s Craft Store, followed by dessert at a nearby cafe. #8 has an artistic nature and wanted to browse through the store that had just opened in our area.
Since she was running low on her supply of watercolour paints, we replenished her stock and bought two pads of watercolour paper. These were planned purchases. Her impulse buy was a black, bound book of blank pages, perfect, she explained, for sketching pictures and writing down her thoughts. “Please, mom,” she begged, “you can take it out of my allowance.” Where I saw a blank book, she saw artistic possibilities. How could I refuse?
After Michael’s, we continued on to a nearby dessert cafe. #8 had never been there before, although my beloved and I sometimes spend time there. My youngest chose a very sophisticated Perrier water and cherry cheesecake while I settled on a more health- conscious, figure- friendly green tea and biscotti. We chatted and enjoyed the time together. She excitedly told me her plans for her new purchases and I listened and smiled.
Since it was a lovely summer day, we had left the car at home and walked to our destinations. We had to cross two heavily trafficked areas on our route. Instinctively, I took #8’s hand as we crossed the first major intersection. She drew back her hand and said gently, “I don’t need to hold your hand.”
Maybe not, my love, but I need to hold yours.