“What are you up to?” I asked as I bent to kiss the crown of her head.
My mom walked out of the kitchen holding a steaming mug in one hand and stirring the contents with the spoon in the other.
“Hi, Mama.”
“Nicole,” she sniffed.
O-o-okay. Still upset about the football thing. Good to know.
Sierra ran her hand over the glossy white rectangle of poster board. Along the bottom looked to be piles of trash. Some food containers and banana peels and a lot of plastic bottles. In the middle she’d drawn and colored the Earth. Bubble letters of different colors spelled out,Don’t trash the Earth. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.
Her head turned to look up at me, her brown eyes wide and young and innocent. Eagerness played across her face as she asked, “What do you think?”
I touched the corner of the poster. “This looks really good, Sierra.” I gave her another kiss. “I’m so proud of you.”
Sierra beamed as she stared back down at her creation.
Mama slid into a chair at the table. “I still say a well-worded letter sent to the principal, superintendent, and state officials will exact change more effectively than a simple poster hung in the cafeteria. Schools are among the largest waste generators in every city.”
Sierra edged away from her grandmother so slightly I doubted Shirley would notice. But I did. I wrapped my hand around my daughter’s shoulder and tucked her close to my side.
I injected a warning tone into my voice and chided my mother with a direct look. “Mama. It’s wonderful, Sierra,” I encouraged with a squeeze. “You did a great job.”
Sierra picked up the markers closest to her and stuffed them back in the package. “And don’t worry, Mom. I made sure to finish my homework first before I started working on the poster.”
My sweet girl. From talking to some of the other moms of Sierra’s classmates, I knew not every kid was as self-regulated as mine. But I never had to worry about hounding her on her schoolwork or chores. She’d always been a very responsible young lady.
“I just think she could use a bit more fun in her life. Kids should be kids and enjoy childhood.”
Drew’s voice popped the swelling pride in my chest like a sharp pin to the side of a balloon. There couldn’t be any truth in his words, could there?
I pushed down the trepidation I felt at Sierra’s possible answer but asked her anyway. “That’s great. But…uh…have you done anything fun today?”
Her little brows pulled low over confused eyes.
Oh good gravy. Was having fun such a foreign concept that the mere mention of the word befuddled my honors-student child?
“Making the poster was fun?” she asked instead of stated, as if there were a right or wrong answer to my pop quiz-type question and she wasn’t sure if the one she’d given was correct.
I glanced at the poster again. A colorful display of artistry and creativity met my eye, and I took a fuller breath. Arts and crafts totally qualified as fun.
Drew was wrong. I wasn’t robbing Sierra of her childhood. Just because we weren’t as footloose and fancy free as he was didn’t mean we didn’t know how to enjoy life.
“Megan did invite me over to her house after school to play Minecraft, but I told her no because I know how you feel about video games.”
Guilt nibbled at the foundation of my waning confidence until the matchsticks I’d built it on snapped under me and I was face first in a pile of my own made up garbage.
Maybe Iwastoo tightly wound. Sure, I didn’t think video games were the best use of a person’s time, and I loved that my daughter wanted to make a difference in the world by advocating for a cleaner Earth, but friendships with other kids were important too.
“Did you want to go to Megan’s and play Minecraft with her?”
That confused look overshadowed Sierra’s face again. If she’d known aboutThe Twilight Zone,she’d probably have suspected she was living an episode where body snatchers took over the screen. What kind of mother was I that my child couldn’t comprehend a simple inquiry about her desire to play a game with a friend?
“I can call her mom and ask if you’re still welcome, if you want to go,” I offered with a feeble smile.
She blinked up at me. “Are you okay, Mom?”
“Yeah, Nicole. What’s gotten into you?” The spoon in Mom’s mug clinked on the rim.
