Dear Duck and Chick,
Memorial Day Weekend 2011 was a very simple kind of awesome. We had 3 fun days of Cousin Avery, and the 3 of you have finally realized that Cousin time is precious, not to be wasted on petty arguments and games of exclusion. I’ve never seen you engaged in serious play for so long, and so in little need of adults. You almost seemed to crave our absence (until bedtime when good Aunts and Uncles pay the piper for our perpetual playmate…Cousins who play well together don’t always SLEEP well together). On Sunday night Daddy and I crossed a type of parenting finish line: we had an entire conversation at dinner while you 2 played nearby in the restaurant’s sand box. Teddy’s Burger Joint not only has the best burgers in the world (this is not a joke…this place is SERIOUS…LY good), but has indoor and outdoor play spaces for kids that are easy to view, not at all germy, totally unique, and have changed the way we eat out.
On Monday we played with friends visiting from the South, and I got to catch up with a friend I haven’t seen in over 20 years. No times passes between people for whom God has a plan; so very much more on this later. There was water and sun and many good times. There was lunch at Steak and Shake where you two and Avery, aka “The Rooster”, and I planned out our summer. It looks a lot like the Summer of Fun, and almost identical to the Summer of Fabulous, so now I’m thinking we’ll call it the Summer of Friends, because by next year, we’ll be calling it our Summer of Traditions. It starts with Strawberry picking and doesn’t end until the last ice cream cone has been licked after the last red raspberry has been plucked.
After finishing our first Strawberry Shortcakes of the season, I would have thought we were done. Voila! Bedtimes and high fives on a fun holiday weekend. AND we avoided the race traffic! We win! It was a bit early, so I decided for a very last minute game of “Beauty Operator“. You never saw it coming, which made it extra special. You thought we were going to brush our teeth, but I whipped out some nail polish, and without a word of discussion, after a full year away from this game, we slipped back into character seamlessly. We were back in Brooklyn, and you were surprised to find that I was no longer Veronica. Veronica had died (she was my Mother), and she left the Beauty Shop to me, Ramona. If I was Ramona, you both decided you couldn’t possibly be Monica and Harmonica. Suddenly Sara, you announced that your name was Sunny. You couldn’t believe the variety of services my little shop offered. Kelly, I must admit that Ramona and Sunny threw you for a loop, so you made the safety choice and became Rainbow Shine. As I started your toes, Miss Rainbow Shine, you quickly switched to a high-pitched British accent, and announced when your pedicure was finished, you would need to use the potty. Before I could get your toes trimmed, you hopped down and yelled that you’d need to “POOP! NOW!” Speaking with a thick Brooklyn accent and painting the toes of someone sitting on the toilet who sounded like an adolescent Mary Poppins was a first for me. You didn’t break character kid. You kept that odd, breathy Queen of England thing going right through books and hugs. That’s my girl.
We had so much to talk about. My sister has a new bakery only 2 blocks away. Don’t use the shoe repairman next door, not because he doesn’t do quality work, but because he dumped me in high school; go to Connie around the corner instead. As it turns out, Sunny and Connie have been best friends since Kindergarten! It’s a small world. Hal next door has the best Barber Shop in at least a 6 block radius, and Rainbow Shine, you announced you much preferred having your hair done at the Barber Shop. “More boys” you told me. You made an excellent point. Neither of you seemed impressed that many years ago (while Veronica was still alive), Meryl Streep stopped by our shop to have her hair done. She told us we were better than any stylist in Hollywood. You thought that story paled in comparison to my wide selection of hair bands. In the end, I hired you both. Sunny, you told me that at 30 years of age, you were ready for a real job and would like to stock my shelves with ribbons and ponytails and what-nots. Someone needed to keep my nail polishes organized. Rainbow Shine, you told me you were 20, and because you now take showers, you would make an excellent shampoo girl. And having watched you shampoo your own head, I think anyone who wants a shampoo of 1/3rd of her head will be very pleased with your skills. I hired you both and put you to bed. It was an easy commute because you informed me that you had been living in my shop for many years. Wow…the things that go unnoticed.
Good Night my Sweet Beauty Operators. May your toes shine like pink beacons of light and may your best beauty advice come from your Momma (and NOT the boys at the Barber Shop next door).