Understandably, my daughter sometimes has little faith in my memory. Today she called from campus knowing we’d be stopping by tomorrow. She asked if I had an empty box?
“Yes. I can bring one.”
“No, are you sure? Can you go check?”
“I’m in the cellar as we speak and I’m already walking back up the stairs with a Xerox box.”
“Now that you’re upstairs with it, can you go in the bathroom?”
“You are going on a scavenger hunt. That’s why. See my flannel shirt hanging in the laundry closet? Put it in the box.”
“Oh! Is this how the game works? Hold on, let me fold it.”
“Whatever. I also forgot to pack some AAA batteries.”
“I like this part. I actually cleaned the hall closet and now have a box just for batteries!”
“I know Mom, I was there for the holidays, remember? I also need my gym bag in the entry way.”
“Got it. What next?”
“Go in my room, please.”
(Laughter ensures.) “When have you ever said that to me?”
“Just for a minute. See the canvas bag next to my light? Put it in the box.”
“This has all your stationery and stamps. Does that mean you’re finally going to write Christmas thank yous?”
“Now you’re being nosy and irritating. Just open the colored drawers and put in my black headband too.”
“Sure. Done. Hey, I like it in here with the new futon. I think I’ll stay and write at your desk today.”
“Mom, get out of my room.”
Now that I realize I’m being told where I can go and what I can touch in my own house, not to mention that I’m being her bitch personal shopper, I start toying with her.
“Oops. The cat just snuck in.”
“Mom, stop. Go get the cat out of my room.”
I let her hear the sound and struggle of the door opening and closing to pick up the cat that’s actually asleep near the stove.
“That’s it. Stop being funny. I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me after you drop Trisha off.”
“Yup. It’ll probably be around dinner time.”
I was surprised she didn’t tell me to bring the box outside to the car on this wintry cold night, so we don’t forget it tomorrow.
I headed back upstairs with my book and tablet.
A minute later I could hear her ring tone. I knew she was thinking I hadn’t put the box in the trunk. Now if I could only figure out where the sound was coming from and remember where I put the phone…