Sunday, April 09, 2006

The Best Years of Our Lives

Because my children go to a daycare that is part of our local school-system, they’ve been out for the last week on spring break.

Though seven month old Rooster Girl begged to go to Daytona for some beer guzzling fun, I put my foot down.

Instead, my Mom mom came to visit for a few nights early in the week, but she left to go visit my brother and his children because, well, she must love them MORE.

For the rest of the week we were visited by my friend Cindy (whom The Mayor called “Candy” the entire time.)

I met Cindy in 8th grade when I moved to Palatine, Illinois from Columbia, Maryland.

Cindy was the first person to befriend me at my new middle school – she invited me over for a make-over.

As she began what would be a five year course in Clinique application (that I would fail despite the length of study), she told me that she was going to be a fashion designer and in the same breath asked if I had I read Goethe.

I ate dinner at her house that night and she became my best friend DESPITE the fact that I would not even express an interest in Goethe for many years.

My favorite story about Cindy involves our inherent teen-aged UNCOOLNESS and her absolute certainty that popularity in high school was not important.

She used to remark (at 14) about how sorry she felt for people who would go on to remember high school as the best years of their lives.

“Can you imagine?” she’d often ask us, “I mean, there are so many more years to live after high school. THIS can’t be all there is to it.”

One day during the summer between Freshman and Sophomore years we were walking out of the pool followed by Mary Nikides and Jenny Joseph, two very popular pom-pom girls, when we heard, “Hey Cindy and Jessica, how many dates have YOU been on this summer?” followed by laughter.

Without missing a beat, Cindy whirled around and retorted,

“They’re not going to ask you that on the S.A.T.!”

I remember wanting to disappear in that moment, but it is one of my fondest memories of being a dorky teenager with her.

Cindy just took a break from her demanding job as a design director for a whole line of clothes produced by an upscale north western department store to spend nearly a week here at Baby Boot Camp.

After living THE JOYS first hand, I wonder if her new husband will see her belly swell any time soon. But, to use some of The Mayor’s words, “C’mon Candy, push higher!” the best years of your life are still to come.


3 comments:

Miss Understood said...

What a fantastic blog! I just came across it and had to stay to read the lot!

Anonymous said...

Say hi to Candy (da wop) from me. M. Duck

Attila The Mom said...

"Instead, my Mom mom came to visit for a few nights early in the week, but she left to go visit my brother and his children because, well, she must love them MORE."

I HATE when that happens!

I'm visualizing the two Pom-pom girls googling their own names and finding those pictures. LOL!

Great blog!