Ray (the kid next door) has been gone for a week and a half, on vacation with his mom, who is a high school teacher and therefore gets things like spring break. Penny has asked nearly every day they were gone if she could play with Ray and when was he coming back?
Sunday evening, just after dinner, the doorbell rang, and there was Ray.
He came bearing gifts. He brought Penny a sparkly pinwheel with Spider-Man on it, and a toy trumpet. I'm not sure of the provenance of the pinwheel, but Ray's mom told me that she'd taken him to a fair and he won two trumpets, and immediately announced that he was going to give the second one to Penny.
Could that be any sweeter?
Yesterday, as I was writing my blog entry and chatting on the interoffice IM with Alexis, I got a call from Penny's teacher. "Um, we have kind of a problem. I was getting ready to do Penny's BG before breakfast, and we don't have the stick thing. It's not in the bag."
Somehow, I'd managed to restock the bag with extra lancet cartridges, but missed the fact that the lancet itself was still sitting on the dining room table. And my weekly meeting was going to start in ten minutes. And even if I skipped the meeting, it would be half an hour before I could get up there. "Okay, um... just dose her for breakfast as usual and don't worry about the correction factor, and I'll make sure you have the lancet in time for lunch."
As I sat in the meeting and pondered the best way to get the lancet to school and then get to my lunchtime appointment, it occurred to me that one of my errands for this week was to return the breast pump to the hospital -- which naturally has to be done by appointment between 9 and 3, making it totally inconvenient to do on the way to the Y or to pick up the kids. As soon as the meeting was done, I called the HME office. Much to my surprise (because I usually have to leave a message) the lady picked up.
So I managed to turn that "oops, I fucked up" panic errand into a way to avoid having to take off time on Thursday (which was the last day I could return the pump without being charged for another month's rent).
Whoo!
A girl in Penny's class at school told Penny recently that superheroes were for boys.
When Penny told me that, I was filled with indignation. "You can tell Miss Prissypants that if she wants to miss out on half the fun things in the world just because they aren't pink and bubbly, then that's fine for her, but there's more to you than lipstick and sparkly eyeshadow."
No, I didn't really say that, at least not in those words. But I wanted to. I love the way that Penny doesn't see anything remotely unusual or amusing in crossing Batman with My Little Pony, or wearing her Superman pyjamas with sequined Hello Kitty sandals. I know that our society will eventually force her to recognize the gender divide, but I want to stave it off as long as possible.
1 comment:
Oh, AMEN. Nothing says you can't love football AND makeup. Or fabulous hair AND technology. I speak from experience here. Penny sounds awesome.
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