Not Coffee

People say that you never know what you have until you lose it. This is meant to demonstrate that most people take much of what they have for granted. 

Just to be clear, I haven't lost anything and I know exactly what I have.

I have silly, secret words that make me giggle and a photo of a man in a snorkel, offering me coffee. I have warm, strong arms around me at night and, when they are away, I have ridiculous conversations about nothing and everything, that shrink the miles and hurry the clock. 

I have a cheerleader. He is someone who dresses up as my favourite character for his Hallowe'en costume.  He gives simple gifts that make me cry; wind chimes shaped like the cone from a Douglas Fir, which music makes me think of home. I have, so far, 11 years of adventure with my best friend, enough to fill pages and pages of this blog, and certainly my days, with smiles and laughter. 

He is my guiding star, the unwavering point by which I navigate. I am grateful for every moment we have together, even that time he convinced me to climb a mountain "just for fun". 

For Glenn, who certainly knows how to keep things interesting.

The Folly And The Ivy

Today I realized that for all my passion, all my care, all my efforts to do it for the last 14 years, I really am horrible at lying to children.

Most people aren't. I wish I had the knack. It seems to flow so effortlessly out of parents and teachers. 

"Mommy will be right back."
"That's a great picture of a giraffe."
"You have lots of friends at school."


Honestly, I do try, but the effort is just so exhausting. I was bound to slip up sooner or later. I really had no intention of doing what I did but I just have no idea how parents do this all the time.

So the guy who seemed to be waiting in line for the ladies room at Canadian Tire piqued my interest, as you can well imagine. We struck up a conversation and it turns out he was waiting on his own Mother In Law, who was 'helping" him Christmas shop with the baby for the day. While we were waiting for her to finish with the little one in the 'Ladies, we got to chatting about grandparents and overspending and toys and about how much is too much. One thing led to another. I didn't mean for it to happen. I had no control over what I said next but  it went something like...

"Oh, I know! In my family, my grandparents got the "Santa Gift" (I actually used air quotes here) and that was it. They played Santa and so they got the one big thing. Boom. Easy."

And then we both did the slow turn, this stranger and I, to meet the eyes of a lone child, age approximately seven years old, who had been waiting silently behind us. Those eyes held shock and loss. So, so much loss.

I am a horrible person. Truly terrible. Not because I outed the man in red 16 days before his big day. Not because I let my guard down in public for 5 freaking seconds around someone's child who frankly, should learn to walk with a heavier tread if she wants to avoid overhearing things she doesn't want to know. It certainly wasn't because I made absolutely no effort to recover the Hoho faux pas, my hypocrisy really only extends so far, after all. And it was not because I simply walked away. 

It was because I cheerfully wished her a Merry Christmas as I did.

Seriously. Between this guy, the Tooth Fairy and what happened
to the classroom goldfish, I am just too tired to care on my day off.