Thursday, March 15, 2012

Fat Old Lady Yogurt

There are a lot of reasons to love teenagers.  One is the dose of humility they serve up.  Regularly.

Earlier this week, I packed Braeden a lunch.  I was out of grapes or fruit of any kind (I blame Mark who is always on-the-verge-of-perishing hungry)  and needed something else for his lunch.  I found some yogurt in the back of the fridge and popped it in Braeden's lunch bag to supplement the sandwich, cookies, chocolate milk, string cheese, granola bar.  He is also always on-the-verge-of-perishing hungry.

So naturally, you'd think Braeden would come home from school and tell me how much he appreciated my time and effort in packing him a lunch.  Naturally.

He told me he and his friends had declared it fat old lady yogurt and he brought it back home.

In other words, thanks but no thanks.

I love that boy.

(I keep reminding myself.)

I do not consider myself a fat old lady.  I do realize however, that I am no spring chicken either.  At Disneyland, I noticed the shoes other people were wearing and thought, "Their feet are going to hurt them later."

Then I thought, "Wow, I am getting old."

I seldom do risky things like stay up past 10:30.  When Emma wanted me to take her to the midnight showing of The Hunger Games, I told her it was adorable when she said such funny things.

I also remember going to the midnight movie at the Varsity Theater many weekends when I was in college.

I am getting old.

But there are occasional glimmers of risk taking.  Glimmers that there's life in the old girl yet.

I have a favorite wall in my house.  It's in my stairwell.  I like it because I decided to turn it into a gallery wall.  I decided I should try to place everything carefully, measuring and the like.

Then I told myself it was adorable when I thought such funny things.

I do better when I just use my eye instead of measuring.  I trust my eye more than my accuracy at math.

Here's the wall.


It is far from perfect but I love it and I love that there's space to add more when the mood strikes.

The perfect amount of risk for someone with fat old lady yogurt in her fridge.

3 comments:

Marianne said...

What kind of yogurt was it?

Jennifer said...

Love the wall, love your writing, and probably would love your yogurt.

Marianne said...

This is Liberty and I like your wall. I wanted to go to the mid night Hunger Games too, but I can't.

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