Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Every Girl Needs Her Mommy Sometimes
We talked on the way to the Doctor's office. We talked in the waiting room. We talked in the examining room, over a hot lunch, waiting for a prescription, getting blood work done and all the way back to her apartment. We spoke of room mate drama, past and present, of protests, of holiday plans, of classes, of day to day minutiae. We were still talking as I made the long trek back home and she was in her apartment. I complained about the traffic. She said "Thanks for coming to take care of me Mommy. I am sorry you are stuck in traffic." I responded, "I had a nice afternoon Emma Girl, I am sorry you are sick." And then she cried, I suspect it was with relief that she could relinquish the responsibility of making decisions for a brief period of time and to be in the hands of her Mommy for just a bit.