Jude got a gift certificate for Games by James, which we're planning on using tomorrow at MOA.
I call him at Dada's. "where is it?" I want to put it in my purse before I forget.
"In the box of presents on my desk." Yes, my kid got a box of presents for his 12th, an above average kill for his annual birthday outing to the Malt Shop.
"Do you want me to grab it for tomorrow? We can go to MOA after I pick you up..."
"well..."
What? Why not? What's the hesitation?
"Okay, but don't lose it," he says.
Me? Your mother? Lose it? I'm the keeper of things.
"Yeah, but you lost your keys," he says.
"That was one time, honey. And I didn't lose them: I just left them in Dada's car!" I don't remind him how many things Dada and TCF and Granny lose in one day and that I pride myself on my OCD. And I don't remind him that the reason I left them in Dada's car was because everyone was screaming at me to "hurry up and come on, and get out, Mama!" Or how many things I had to carry.
"I won't lose it, Jude."But he must sense some doubt. And it's true; I have been a little scattered these days. Last xmas I lost my hat at the antique shop. Sometimes I leave the packed snacks at home on the counter. But compared to the crew, I generally...
"Hmmmm...."
"Listen!" I say, "I never lose things! Of all the people in your life, I'm the one who never loses things the most."
Er...
