Mine. Hers. Ours. Us. We.

The kiddo graduates from Headstart today. Five years old. Kindergarten. Wow.

She’s a funny roommate. Like me, she has definite ideas on how to decorate the place. She has good sense and a sensibility that’s a bit like mine, but all hers. She sees things in the pets that I don’t until she shows me. She’s pretty involved emotionally with them. Wants a guinea pig. Not yet. Not yet. And of course, the ferret. No. Just, no. She cooks;supervised, of course. But she knows how to make a scrambled egg and macaroni and cheese.

We only really fight over the tape deck in the car. I’ve been jonesing for a nice long ride in the car with some Dylan.

She has other ideas. We’ve been riding in the car with The Pretenders for three weeks. Three.weeks. Straight. But it’s sort of touching. She favors “Kid”, “Lovers of Today”, and “I Go To Sleep”, the last of which is one of my favorite songs. Chrissie’s is a touch on the melodramatic side, but it’s the lilting accompaniment; so soft, that gets me. Something about it comforts me.

Her lover, Ray Davies wrote this for her, and I find his version more sweet.

Chrissie’s at her very best when she’s all piss and vinegar and throwing attitude, as on “Precious”, and “Tattooed Love Boys”. Songs the kiddo won’t hear. Don’t want to give her ideas. She is currently insisting on being addressed as “Christina”.

I got her the two wheeler scooter as a big girl present for her graduation, and a pair of crocs. We’d decided before going to store that they’d be purple, like mine. But when we got there, we couldn’t find any like mine. We were greeted instead with rows of bubble gum pink Barbie and Princesses garnishments. Until I spied a lavendar colored pair with Tinkerbell on them. The kiddo, when she’s frustrated with me, will tell me that she wants a new Mommy and is going to Grandma’s. And then, she’ll impersonate Tinkerbell when she communicates with me for awhile. So she’s communicating with me, but she’s not, in a sense. I pitched the the Tinkerbell kicks.

“No. I want these.”

Spiderman crocs. Black, clunky Spiderman crocs with a big leaping Spiderman front and center.

“She’s got to be kidding”, I muttered. “Jesus God!”

She wasn’t. I started feeling desperate. Pushing Tinkerbell under her nose.

“See, aren’t these nice???? Tinkerbell! Purple! Pretty….dontcha think?”.

She wasn’t kidding.

“But you like the pretty! You do! You do!” I didn’t say that. But I wanted to. She says something like that when I don’t like something.


Solemn. Determined.


Stared me down.

I lost.

She can’t wait to show them off to her little boy buddies today at the graduation picnic.

Good times, good times.


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June 2008
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