Wednesday, June 22, 2011

White girls with Dreads

Grant has mentioned several times over the past few months that he doesn't feel any older then 18. He doesn't always see himself as a 31 year old man with 1+ children and a wife of 7+ years. I never really understood this sentiment, and usually spend at least 30 futile minutes after he makes a comment like this trying to convince him that he is indeed a grown-up, living a grown-up life. Today, I think I understood what he was talking about.

I worked last evening, so after getting home at midnight and eating my third bowl of cereal of the day, the thought went through my head that there wasn't much in the pantry for breakfast. This morning I showered, got dressed, and packed Pursy up to the Waffle Shop for breakfast. Usually we do this on a Saturday morning when Grant is free to join us, but today it was just the girls. I don't remember looking at the menu- just ordered what sounded good and what Purslane would eat. I strapped her safely into a high chair, made sure she couldn't grab any knives or forks and that my coffee was far out of reach. Then I pulled a peek a boo book, her sippee cup and a bib out of the enormous Mom purse that doubles as a diaper bag and entertained her until our food came.

About 5 minutes after we sat down, two beautiful hippy girls came in. They had on matching batik style skirts, sandals and their blond and brown hair was dreaded and up in knots at the top of their head. They sat down close to us and ordered two hot teas. I instantly went back to a thousand mornings in Boulder, Colorado where I was the hippy chick with the unshaved legs, long skirts sans underwear and looking for anything that was local and vegetarian. I spent my time reading Kierkegaard and SARK and hanging out with boys who did things like hacky sack and knit. I was an Anthropology major at the University of Colorado, so of course everyone else in the universe was boring. I don't remember spending much time judging other people for their life decisions, just feeling great about my own. I rode the Light Rail to school, held hands with my girlfriends walking down the 16th Street Mall and spent my Saturdays trail running and taking pictures with old cameras at Red Rocks.

Side note: those who know my husband well now understand how crazy we still think it is that we got together while I was in this phase in my life.

So for a moment today, I thought maybe I should go over and sit with those girls. Of course I would fit right in and they wouldn't look twice at my pregnant belly or Target skirt. Then, Pursy grabbed both spoons and started banging them on the table yelling "DADA DADA DADA" and I was brought back to my 31 year old self. And I smiled at their dreads and organic black teas, then turned and kissed my daughter.

2 comments:

  1. grant (the husband)June 22, 2011 at 11:41 AM

    Can we please be clear that I was NOT one of the boyfriends playing hacky-sack or knitting?...no devil sticks, no noodle dancing, no pony-tails, no patchouli...

    ReplyDelete
  2. LOL -- I don't think anyone for a second thought you were, Grant...

    ReplyDelete