Here’s something we haven’t talked about.
In the past two weeks, I have found myself at two high school orientation meetings for Caroline. Some of you who have been reading here for a while are wondering, “Why do they have high school orientation meetings for a toddler?” And that’s a valid question. I’ve been wondering the same thing.
Where in the fresh state of all things has the time gone?
I don’t write much about Caroline these days, mainly because she can read and also because she probably doesn’t want her personal life broadcast (webcast?) on the internet. I really try to give her privacy other than just a general state of the union report of our weekends and things like that. But I have to say this whole going to high school thing feels totally surreal. I want time to slow down, but at the same time I am so excited for her and all that lies ahead. And I have to say that I am loving this stage of parenting much more than I did the toddler years. Those years are so sweet with their sticky fingers and pudgy little legs, but they are also exhausting, whereas these days it’s like we have another real person in the house with thoughts and insights and, most importantly, funny things to say.
Basically, sunrise and sunset and all that business. Life goes fast, man. And I just want to enjoy every single minute and for her to become all that God intends for her to be and I adore the woman she is becoming. And I also hope she will want to live next door to us when she’s an adult. That shouldn’t be too much to ask.
I am essentially waist deep in all my feelings about high school.
In other news from the week, I worked the concession stand at the junior high on Tuesday evening. It was a little cold and rainy outside and everyone wanted hot chocolate. This would have been totally fine except there were no spoons and a microwave that took three minutes to heat a cup of water. I apologized profusely as I handed people what was essentially a lukewarm cup with some chocolate powder floating on top, but they all seemed to think it was okay. Maybe they were just that cold. Or maybe they had appropriate expectations for what a junior high concession stand could provide in the way of hot chocolate. But I felt bad about it. And then I felt even worse when I realized about an hour into my shift that there was an electric carafe I could have used to heat all the water. Of course I still would have had to use the end of a Blow-Pop as a stir stick so maybe the hot water wouldn’t have made that much of a difference.
I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, but this has been my week.
And then yesterday I went to the grocery store for the first time in forever. I used Shipt to get groceries delivered while we had the flu, but I hadn’t made a big trip since before Christmas and we were out of everything. I made the terrible mistake of going right after I worked out at Smart Barre and I was starving. You know how they say not to go grocery shopping when you’re hungry? They’re right.
I nearly bought some barbecue flavored banana chips. Can you even imagine? I can’t even think about it right now. But at the time I was so hungry that I briefly put them in my cart believing that might be a delicious combination of flavors. BARBECUE AND BANANA. Maybe I could serve them with a side of chicken and chocolate. Which makes me think of a time way back before Caroline was born when P and I used to take a group of high school kids on ski trips every Spring Break with Campus Life. We always stayed at the same resort and they always had a buffet for dinner. One night they had a chocolate peach cobbler for dessert.
Sounds awful, right?
But P always loves dessert so he put some on his plate and then took a bite and declared that it was delicious. And since I am an easily influenced follower, I tried a bite and it was, in fact, incredibly disgusting. It was absolutely as bad as you would imagine chocolate peach cobbler to be and P was totally kidding about it being delicious.
And this story has no point.
Except for maybe this.
Don’t ever eat chocolate peach cobbler.
I still remember the way it made my brain internally scream when it hit my tastebuds even though it happened before Caroline was born. It feels like I just tasted it a few days ago.
But I know it was at least fifteen years ago because Caroline is starting high school next year.
The end.
P.S. If you ever see me at HEB and I’m about to put barbecue banana chips in my cart, please stage an intervention right there in the aisles. Thank you in advance.