I am missing N, suddenly.
M and I carved the pumpkins last night, and even thought we did it last year without N because she was out, or something, it’s still something we did together ever since they were really too little to do it.
Also, she’d wanted a care package, so M and I made pumpkin muffins and sent her a bunch, along with some silly halloween things (like pencils, and skeleton paratroopers).
Then it seemed that a piece of her costume was not going to make it to Maine in time, so I went out and got that and sent it express, with some Halloween tattoos and spider rings.
Then she texted me to tell me that she’s going to be playing ice hockey (ice hockey?) and she needed to go buy skates, and, apparently, a mouth guard.
“Great!” I wrote.
“Do you know how to stop in hockey skates?” I wrote again after a few minutes. (I don’t.)
“Also, I need socks, and a pair of spandex shorts,” she wrote again. “Do you want to get those for me?”
“Sure,” I wrote. “What kind of socks?”
“I have no idea!” she wrote back. “Aren’t you worried about me? I am. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Well, I’m glad about the mouthguard,” I wrote back.
I do miss her. Apparently they’re going to loan her a helmet, too, so when I see her in a few weeks, she should still have all her teeth AND no concussion. That’s good, right?
It’s also kind of funny, because my retirement dream has always been to move to Canada and join the women’s ice hockey team. Now we can do it as a mother-daughter pair. Plus, maybe she’ll be able to show me how to stop!
My nephew is apparently playing hockey, too, but this is the child who was climbing out of windows at 18 months. He’s 7, now, and I’m sure he’s way beyond learning how to stop. Maybe we’ll get him to teach us.