“I don’t get it,” Dave says, holding up a craft of a glob of clay attached to a bottle cap. The two pipe cleaner antennae had been ripped off, along with the googly eyes – remnants of a project Evelyn had brought home from preschool. I strategically placed it next to the garbage can, a silent plea for disposal, but the final slam dunk into the can was yet to come. “Why do they send home this stuff?” And bam, we found ourselves in agreement, just the alley-oop I needed.
But seriously, why? Why, five times a week, do teachers put us in the precarious position of determining whether to elevate a creation to sentimental status or send it off to decay in a landfill? It’s a dilemma of which I’m not a fan.
“That Santa visit was quite expensive,” Dave remarked while waiting in line for the button-push cocoa machine to work its magic at a building associated with the Northwest Railway Museum. The Santa Train is a unique experience from riding a steam train, the conductor offering his hand to help on the steep stairs with train shtick conversation like, “You better keep me on track” to diverse seating options in each car, including wooden benches and plush yet slightly torn velvet-backed chairs.
At one point, I felt the magic. It was a moment when we crossed an active road, the black and white bars drawn down, red lights flashing. Everyone on our car and those in actual cars waved at one another. It may not have been much, but for me, it was about that feeling – a sense of connection, being part of a moment with my daughter and her friend snuggled in a seat, alongside our friends, all of us waving, smiling. Later, I’d tell Dave, “For that, it was worth the ticket price.”
Afterward, parked behind our friends, we huddled together to witness their opening our presents for them. A 16×20-inch canvas picture of Evelyn and Ethan for Ethan’s bedroom and an anti-fatigue kitchen mat for Lindsay, one I had seen her eyeing at the store.
While I would have loved to go out for dinner together, I was mindful that our friends had just arrived back from a two-plus-hour drive after camping in Leavenworth. Going from no snow to eighteen inches overnight, they braved tent camping with a high-powered diesel stove all night. Not wanting to stand between them and their bed, filled with comfy warmth, I agreed to a playdate soon.
Back home, amidst nibbling on a Costco taste-test-winner udon noodles I became curious about the extra quiet Evelyn. Entering her playroom, I spotted the usually unused train track out, with the train car gift from Santa hard at work around the track. Drawn to her play, I joined in, picking up an engine magnetized to two cars and making the “chugga-chugga-choo-choo” noise to tie a bow on the day.
It was a good day. Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 