my present

"Hailey, did you get your mom something for Mother's Day?" It's Saturday, and I'm just making conversation.

"Yes."

"What did you get?"

"A bracelet."

"Oh, that's nice," I say, picturing her father and a trip to the jewelry store.

"Madison," now I'm playing. "Did you get your mother anything?" They giggle at me.

"Yes." Was there eye rolling? Oh, probably. Mother's daughter.

This morning I revised my mental picture, included in my mental thanks a fifth grade teacher who must have, in her slightly younger years, grown tired of crappy projects hauled home from school.

"Mrs. Durkee says she spends a forture in beads," said my always forthright daughter.

"I bet. Did you pick out these or make the pattern?"

"Well, really I just went along with it. Mrs. Durkee likes symmetry." I have taught her to be honest. There's no evidence here that I've taught her how to stamp an envelope, but that just makes it sweeter. A souvenir from the very tail end of childhood. And don't I look great in that picture?