On her way back from the bus stop yesterday afternoon, Iris came up to our porch to say a quick hello. (If you're wondering who the hell Iris is, start here.) She was wearing a new sweater that her grandmother had bought for her in Atlanta. Apparently, there had been a minor--very minor--shopping spree, and I was happy to know Iris had been given the opportunity to do something as frivolous and materialistic as going to the mall.
"Do you want to see some cool mica I found?" Iris asked. And she proceeded to unload a whole collection of tiny, peach-tinted, glinting rocks from her sweater pocket. She spread them out in the palm of one hand and touched them lightly with the fingers of the other hand.
"Ooh, cool," I said. "Did you find these on the playground?"
"Yup," she said. And then, "Gotta go!" Her chores were waiting for her, and so was her slave driver mother.
A while later, after she had finished her chores, Iris came back over for her mother's helper gig. (And I have to say, in all fairness, kudos to mom for allowing this.)
"Do you think your boys would want these?" she asked, digging into her pocket for the rocks again.
"You're not going to keep them?" I asked.
"Nah," she said. "My mom said I could only have one."
Okay, getting upset about a second pencil, that makes a whole lot of sense and surely falls into philosophical line with the recommendations of the most esteemed parenting experts. I mean, doesn't Dr. Sears devote a whole chapter to this exact issue? Or maybe it's T. Berry Brazelton I'm thinking of.
But only one rock? That, in the words of Iris' mom, really crosses a boundary for me.
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I went through a very similar experience with my daughter and her gh shots. Nightmare city! But there is a group of parents out there, like us, who is really great. They helped me. FYI- check out www.magicfoundation.org
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