Friday, July 8, 2011

Dear Mom,

I remember one time I was getting ready to go over to Heather’s house (when we were living on Mayo) and I just started walking and didn’t stop. Didn’t even warn you that I was going.  When I got there, you'd already been on the phone with Heather's mom and I'm pretty sure I got an earful from both of you.

I used to just drop my backpack on the front lawn when I got home from school. Not sure why. But I did.  I think I was about 6 or 7 at that point.

And then of course there was that time that Rachel, Bonnie and I decided to go look for cans to recycle. And we decided to go look at the Expo Center. Without telling you. That's the only time I ever remember being grounded.

And there was one time in Middle School when I had detention (for eating a caramel in history class) I didn’t wait for you to come pick me up. I just started walking home when I didn't like what the other kids were talking about.  Of course I didn't think about going inside.  Nope - I just packed up my backpack and violin and headed out. But of course, I didn’t take any normal sort of route home. Because when Burlingame meets 29th, there’s no really good place to cross on the southwest side of the road. No sidewalks or crossing signs. I didn’t realize that soon enough, so instead of backtracking, I started walking west on 29th to find a better place. And you found me. After who knows how long of looking and how much cursing and praying.

So, uh. Thanks for always letting me live to see my next birthday. I didn’t always deserve it. I love you.

No comments: