This is Sidney. He’s a total charmer.
His mother is a dear friend. Who lives all the way across the country. Boo. This photo was taken when I visited in January.
After we-don’t-even-know-how-long of commenting and emailing back and forth (and later, Skyping, texting, and calling), we talked about meeting “one day,” even though we really didn’t know how or when that might happen.
Joy said, “It will happen. I know, because I just got the shiver of truth.”
I knew exactly what she meant. I trusted it.
The opportunity came when Kristina and I made our cross-country road trip odyssey in January. So, in addition to finally getting to hug my friend, she and Kristina were able to meet, after hearing so much about each other.
Then I spent a few days with this lovely family. And fell in love. Ah, this boy. And his mama and his papa – people of my heart.
In a recent email, Joy told me about a project they had and how much easier it would have been if I had been there to whisk Sidney away for the afternoon – little ones are seldom as much help as they think they are or want to be.
I wrote back with my idea of how that would have gone. This was completely off the cuff, straight from my heart, and I kind of love it. Joy said she cried. (I hope there was also a part where she laughed. You’ll know when.) Then I read it aloud to Ed and his response – with Joy’s – makes me want to share it here.
So I’m being brave and doing that.
And I would LOVE to have come by and whisked him away while you worked.
We would have gone to the zoo (Atlanta has a zoo, yes?) and looked at the ostriches (do they have ostriches?) with their enormous beaks.
We would have stayed well back from striking range, because ostriches like to poke eyes. Bad ostriches! (Okay, no, they are just being ostriches, doing what it is in their ostrich nature to do. Blargh. Compassion.)
And then we would have gone to see the bears (do they have bears?) and we would have practiced lumbering like bears.
Then we would have opened up a bottle of bubbles with two wands in it (because I would just happen to have one in my bag) and we would have blown bubbles and chased them and laughed, and then I would have taken amazing pictures and you would have one blown up all huge and grainy to put on your living room wall.
After that, we’d have gone to a coffee shop, and we would have found a corner with a teeny tiny table, and I would have pulled out some floppy old favourite picture book from my cavernous carpet bag (wow, I really am seeing myself as some kind of Mary Fucking Poppins, aren’t I?) and we would have read it while we shared a rice krispie square.
Then he would fall asleep in the car on the way home, with one sticky cheek getting red from heat and sleep, and we would share a glass of wine out on the steps while we left him in the car because we didn’t want to wake him to come inside.
At least, that’s how the fantasy in my head went when I read the sentence about me coming over.
Calling it a field trip comes from our homeschool days – in regular classrooms, going on a field trip was something special, something rare, when you left the school and went out into the world. As homeschoolers, everything we did was a field trip. We felt special and rare and adventurous. I wanted to share that with Sid.