Slushie Grace
- September 25, 2015
- by
- Ned Erickson
I don’t think Anna Rose would mind me telling you this – she’s the tougher of our two kids to parent. She actually prides herself in it. It’s probably what will make her successful one day – and make me prematurely gray.
We were leaving the Back-to-School Bash last Friday when tears exploded from her face. “I don’t want you to be my parents. I wish I was an orphan!”
What caused this declaration, you ask? Well, her father hadn’t waited in line to get her a slushie. I had actually given her three dollars to get her own slushie, and to her credit she had given the money back after deciding she didn’t feel like waiting in line.
After seeing the line, I can understand why she didn’t feel like waiting in it. I didn’t feel like waiting in it either. Which is why I didn’t. Which is why Anna Rose was wishing she was an orphan.
“I don’t know who you are. Because my real mom wouldn’t be treating me the way you are treating me!” she screamed at Lia.
I held it together a good five minutes before I exploded: “I can’t believe I spent thirty-two dollars to get two crying kids!” David was crying because he hadn’t won the egg toss. “You know the one thing I have learned from all this? We are NEVER going to the Back-to-School Bash AGAIN!”
For better and worse, Lia and I had prearranged a babysitter to watch our kids so we could go out that night. It was a rough transition. By the time we got in the car, neither of us were in the mood to go out on the town.
But we did. It was worth it. I gave the babysitter a bit extra.
The next morning, Anna Rose was apologetic. “I was out of line, Dad.” (Direct quote).
“Tell you what, Anna Rose, let’s get a slushie this afternoon.”
Which is what we did…right before we went to an Event for Cancer Research where there was a HUGE slushie machine…where Anna Rose got her second slushie of the weekend.
The next day, we went to a welcome-to-town party for a friend of ours, and before I had even put down my corn hole set, I overheard Scott Reed tell my daughter, “Hey, Anna Rose, want a slushie?”
Three slushies.
A three slushie weekend.
Unbelievable.
On the way back to the car, Lia asked Anna Rose, “How many slushies did you deserve this weekend?”
“None,” said Anna Rose.
“How many slushies did you get?”
“Three,” said Anna Rose.
“That’s what grace is Anna Rose,” said Lia.
“Tastes pretty good, doesn’t it?” I added.