Check out my reader. I was making dinner and she's sitting there plowing through a real book. With words like "Madagascar" and "while." Now, I'm not saying she was reading those words, but she read most of them, and the weird ones like those she either asked for help, or pulled them from the context. And I am busy thanking the reading gods. Cuz you and I both know...if the reading is under control, the rest can be dealt with. If the reading is hard...everything is hard! Whew!!!
So I go to pick her up today and I notice the T-shirt on one of the workers. It says, "Younglife," which is kinda like a mini-mission joint. Convert them young sort of thing. My initial reaction was what my initial reaction always is...I think mostly on point but, admittedly, a trifle judgemental. My secondary reaction was brutal. "Oh shit! I've handed my kid to these people!!!" What if she comes home from college and tells me about the great time she had at The Inn Tuesday night? What if she shows me her purity ring? What if I actually have this conversation while driving in the car
Her (about some nutjob thing involving a squirell's tail that I had agreed with absent-mindedly): I finally found someone who believes me!
Me: Honey, I always believe you. That's why it's important to always tell the truth, so people can believe what you say (mental pat on the back for reinforcing a lesson we've been discussing lately. Way to grab a teachable moment, mom!)
Her: You don't believe me about god.
Me: *dammit* What do you mean honey? I believe in god. Just not the same way The Firs does.
Her: Well, we (oh stab me in the heart. WE? She has aligned with them against me in this) believe Jesus died for us and we should pray to him and to god.
This went on and on and, sadly, didn't get any better. She knows I have a different belief system than her daycare. (Her flippin DAYCARE!!!) She has chosen sides. Which is fine. She's five. They aren't preaching chicken beheadings...leaving that to the Palin school of theology. But see, here is my point. Where does she become an alien one of them that I cannot stand to be around? And yes, that's hyperbole, but that's my favorite form of communication. Of course I would never not want to be around her, but is it possible she becomes someone I lump into the "them" category? And yes, I KNOW it's my problem and it's unfair and yadda yadda yadda...but come on. Do you think Cheney's mom saw him coming? Was there a point where she went, "I've lost him." Or, did she dress him up in a black fedora of death and put him in a wheelchair for his 4th birthday and cross her fingers he'd turn out like he did. I don't know. Do you?
