6 year old angst

Tonight I was in the car with Molly. We had just dropped Lucy, Rachel, and Ella off to be in charge of a nursery at church. (yes, I should have been at the meeting that the nursery was provided for, but I got kids to chauffeur and parking lots to sit and wait in!) Then we dropped Harrison at basketball. I had already dropped William at his basketball practice earlier. I did that right after I picked up Lucy, Rachel, and Harrison from a BETA meeting. I did that about 45 minutes after I went to two different schools to pick up the 3 other kids. I would use their names, but I have forgotten them in the maddening rush.

I just blacked out for a minute. I forgot to breathe, again! Where was I ???

Oh, Molly and I had about 20 minutes to kill in the parking lot at William's school. I had a book and Molly had Kiersten. I figured we would just sit and wait. Maybe take a nap or count the smashed bugs on the windshield. No, Molly needed some advice. She was having a problem and wanted to talk to me about it.

"Mom?"

"hmm?"

"Mom, how can you learn to stop back washing? Is it something you outgrow? I have a really bad problem of back washing and I don't know what to do."

"Oh... I uh, I think you will just learn to stop doing it. I wouldn't worry too much about it."

"Mom (yes, just like your children she says mom 765,987 times a day) how can you tell when there is backwash in a drink?"

"Err, little floaty bits from your mouth are floating in the drink and you can see them" That question felt like a close second to 'why do I need to use toilet paper after I poop?'

I wonder why she is asking this. What weird little thought triggered this backwash conversation. She talks a little more about it and then starts to play with Kiersten for a few minutes. I start to zone out and then she starts telling me about the inside of William's gym at his school. The school we are sitting in front of right now. Now, I don't want you to think that I am not an attentive mom. I am , dadgummit. (note use of local vernacular) I have been in that gym. Once. Last year. I watched William compete in a pickle ball tournament. No, I have no idea what pickle ball is. It looked like a cross between tennis and badminton played with racquetball rackets. He was creamed, he had never played before, either.

So Molly tells me about how they have a concession stand in the gym. Boy, her school isn't that cool. It also has no sports teams. None. She mentions that Tuesday night when she went to watch William's first basketball game of the season with her dad that Papa was there. He gave her money to buy popcorn and a soda at the aforementioned really cool right in the gym concession stand.

One popcorn

One soda

They all shared.

I wonder how you can tell if a six year old eating popcorn has back washed into a Sprite...