Sometimes it’s really hard to be a grown-up. Like, when your four year old’s best friend is moving to Wisconsis and you’re supposed to be all:
I know, that’s really rough, Mary Bullock. You’re going to miss her a lot. It’s ok to be sad.
When you really want to stamp your feet and be all:
NO. DON’T WANNA.
about the whole thing.
Her name is Emme. E-M-M-E, the first name that Mary Bullock learned to spell after her own. They have been practically inseparable since the first week of their two year old preschool year, when Mary Bullock held her hand and walked into their classroom so that Emme wouldn’t cry.
They fight a lot– over who gets the red plate, who gets to marry Liam, who gets to be the Pet Doctor and who has to be the sick pet– you name it, they can go nose to nose over it. Oh, the drama.
But when they’re not pinching, poking, or otherwise provoking each other, the love they have for each other is fierce.
Mary Bullock thinks about Wisconsin a lot when we’re driving in the car on the way to school.
How will Emme get to Wisconsis?
Is Wisconsis near Avondale?
How will I have play dates with Emme when she moves to Wisconsis?
How long is she going to be in Wisconsis? Two whole DAYS?
(No, baby, not two days. Two years.)
TWO YEARS?? TOO LONG!!
The kind of stuff that makes me cry and thank God that Mary Bullock can really only see the back of my head from her car seat.
Sometimes it’s really hard to be a grown-up.
PS. Katie- I promise I won’t tell you I love you– ever— but thank you for helping me do life the last two years. It didn’t suck.