Tuesday, December 06, 2005

My little social butterfly..

My daughter is pretty much a replica of my husband. Except for the blue eyes and the ability to talk a stone wall to death--she doesn't get much from me. Today I found another trait.

I am not what you would call shy. In fact, I am what most people would call overbearing and overly friendly. I am the lady that will actually respond to the grocery store checkers questions about my day. That might be why I know all the employees at Walgreens and Safeway. I know their names and have exchanged Christmas cards w/ many of them. I know which one is being a surrogate for her brother and his wife, but no one else at work knows it. I know which one works at the Walgreens AND the Safeway (which is totally against the rules and would get her fired), etc. They talk, I listen, I talk, they listen. Cheaper then therapy.

Anyway, a few nights ago Lauren came home asking if she could have a playdate with Fred. I don't know who Fred is, but told her that I would try and follow up. I assumed it was someone from school. Last night Fred came over to return Lauren's sunglasses that she left at the pool. Fred is 90 if he is a day. Seriously. She has asked me 12 times if I will call him and set up a play date. I am not exactly going to send my daughter over to the home of a strange adult man. I don't think he is any danger--in fact, I would be worried more about Fred then I do about Lauren. She could actually talk him to death. BUT, it is not something I would do. She also bugs me about going over to our neighbor Alice's house. Alice also just turned 90. I wish this was the end of the list, but it goes on and on. She knows ALL the old people around here and half of them don't even like kids. I gotta hand it to her, being able to make friends with people who actually turn around when they see you coming is a social skill I am still working on.

After the millionth time of her asking me and me saying no she asked me "Mom, why don't any of those kids want to play with me?"

Ha!

2 comments:

~j. said...

That is so funny. I thought you were going to say that Fred was an imaginary friend or a frog or something.

You've inspired me for my next blog post...

AzĂșcar said...

I used to do the same thing Bek! My mom would have to go look for me at the elderly lady's apartment across the complex. I was always hanging out with the seniors.