The lyrics to one of Maria Muldaur’s songs have been running through my head this morning… (couldn't find it online, but it goes something like this):

dem dat know

know that they know

dem dat don’ know

they don’ know they don’ know

My daughter falls into the “they don’t know they don’t know” category.

It is sunny and beautiful in Tillamook this morning, although with a little remaining snow on the ground. Chris called up and asked if the boys would like to go fishing. My immediate reaction, was hey! I want to go fishing– but then I started dreading telling my little girl.

Samantha doesn’t know that she might be a pain, or understand why she doesn’t get included in boy time. Even though I promised her we’d do something fun, or have a friend over or something – she was very sad that she didn’t get to go fishing with the boys. She had a sleepover with Charlie and his buddy Richard the night before and didn’t understand the change in gears from all three of them piled in sleeping bags in the basement playing videogames, and snowball fights in the backyard to the boys and dads going off without her.

I told her it was hard to be left out, and I wanted to go too. I then said we are just going to have to grow up and show the boys we know how to fish too.

She looked at me with tears in her eyes (it has been a weepy household this week) and said – “ I already know how to fish. I just don’t know how to get the chance to show them.”

I ain’t going to be the one to tell her she don’t know.

Comments

I loved your last posting with the scanned letter. How special!

Are you still planning to build on the lot you purchased in Tillamook? How exciting to design your own home! :) Karli

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