The girls came home from school today, waddling slowly across the field wrapped up in all their winter gear. They reached our yard and fell to the ground and made a snow angel. I watched from the window and couldn't help but laugh as they had a snowball fight with the neighbor boy and our dog. They played outside in the fresh snow for about an hour.
"Look, Mom! I made a rocket ship!" Lexi shouted when I checked on them.
After a while, Emma came running in whimpering, "Reese said he doesn't want to be my friend anymore!" After about fifteen minutes of crying and screaming, she was sticking to her guns that nothing happened. Finally, she calmed down and admitted that "something" happened and she wanted to go apologize. Then, everything was just fine. They played inside for about an hour with no more issues.
When did things get more complicated than that? I miss the simplistic, carefree days of childhood, when the pure joy of making a rocket ship out of snow was enough. You could entertain yourself for hours just rolling around in the cold, wet snow. Plus, you could go from hating to loving your friends in a mater of minutes, with no grudges or strings attached.
I wish I could go back to that. There was no bills to pay, supper to make, rooms to clean, laundry and dishes to wash... (shall I go on?) All friends were considered friends for life. The biggest problem I had was where I would sit on the bus. How sweet that would be...