Our Borders escaped is the beginning of girls weekend in Suburbia. Adventure Guy and Soccer Boy have headed off into the wilds we fondly refer to as “the deer lease” for a weekend of father/son bonding. Deer season is over, but they’ll be tromping around in the woods and doing some off-season upkeep on the property. The girls and I have had dinner, and now we’re planning to watch Step Up, which I’m sure is a fine film. Particularly since its executive producer is this guy who was my date to Senior Girls’ Party in high school and made my father’s day when he got out of the car to pick me up and asked my dad, who was working in the yard at the time, “Hey, sir, does this outfit match?” And, since he did not attend our recent high school reunion, I feel it is my duty to out him. He was not valedictorian as his bio claims but salutatorian. But, hey, take a look. He’s cute anyway!
I’m telling myself that it could be worse. I could be passing along a tendency toward alcoholism or drug addiction to my hapless children. Instead, my girls began salivating tonight when I agreed to take them to Borders. Swim Chick informed me that she’s already read all the books she bought with her birthday money. Yes, her birthday at the end of January. Yes, she bought 6 books that trip. Yes, she has another Border’s gift card and a debit card remaining from said birthday and Valentine’s Day, and she’s ready to put her money where her library card should be. In response Gym Girl noted in typical middle-child fashion that I NEVER buy her ANY books so wanted some too. She also noted that she was not in possession of any money with which she wished to part. The book addict in me (hardcover, please!) caved almost immediately. We browsed, we compared options, we each arrived at the register with our own little stacks of literary potential. Gym Girl owes me bad.