My daughter decided to celebrate her birthday over Labor Day weekend. One because the date and venue of the anime convention I usually took them to changed, and two, a couple of the girls she goes to the convention with were leaving for college soon. It’s just another adult reality in her new, post-graduate life: get a job, go off to college, and celebrate your birthday when it’s convenient for your friends.
It was interesting to watch them together at the end of summer compared to the deer-in-the-headlights looks they all wore during the graduation party at the beginning. Their lives have settled down and, for the most part, they now all have some sort of direction or dreams and are acting on them.
My oldest daughter invited a close friend to her sister’s party and sleepover. In the morning, though, my daughter had to go to work. One of my youngest’s friends decided against the pack mentality of piling herself in my daughter’s tiny bedroom to sleep, so she was alone on the family room couch in the morning. She woke upon my oldest daughter and her friend’s movements.
She knew my oldest daughter’s friend from a previous life; school most likely or another party at our house. They entertained each other after my oldest left for work and while my youngest and the rest of her gang were still sleeping. I heard them talking as I cleaned up the first shift of breakfast. They sounded so grown up.
“What ever happened to Misty?”
“I think she owns a gym now.”
“Wow! I haven’t seen her in a long time.”
My oldest daughter’s friend held up her cell phone with a picture of Misty. The other girl exclaimed, “She really has changed.” I happened to be hanging up a coat at the back of the couch, which is also the location of our front door’s entry. Assuming I’d see a picture of a mutual acquaintance, I glanced over at her cell phone. It was a cartoon character.
What? Here I thought they were having a serious conversation about a real-life mutual friend, but they were talking about a Pokémon trainer. Don’t even ask me what that means. I only know that Pokémon is a video game or cartoon on TV or something. It was only later that my youngest explained to me who Misty was.
Though I initially thought it was a trivial topic, I understand it was a conversation about a shared passion. I really can’t put them down for it, because even though it’s a silly pastime to me, I don’t remember having a shared passion with any of my high school friends. We didn’t have easy ways to share hobbies or talents. There were no video games, You Tube, Tumblr or Snap Chat (I don’t know what most of these are either; I’m only repeating what I’ve heard). Heck, I didn’t even grow up with cable TV because we lived out in the country. We got three channels, but only when my dad was out on the roof trying to twist the antenna to get better reception.
In addition, those young ladies’ conversation was about so much more than a cartoon character. It was about drawing and art, and getting better at drawing and art. Really, my kids and their friends have a lot more going for them than I ever did at that age. I think I looked like a deer-in-the-headlights well into my 20s.
Maybe we could all use a little silliness in our lives to keep us grounded in adult reality.
Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. You can read more of her writing and her blog on her websitelivingwithgleigh.com or on Facebook at “Living with Gleigh,” or twitter @livewithgleigh. Her column is available every week atmaplevalleyreporter.com under the Lifestyles section.
