k

Dear K

Cami Kaos

Cami Kaos

— 1 min read
You are growing up in a time I know nothing about. NOTHING.Don't get me wrong I know how to be a grownup in this world. It's the only one I've ever been an adult in. Can you see me living in Ancient Egypt or Victorian England? I think not...But when I grew up, I thought things were complicated, I could only have one ice-pop a day. Only one. When it was a nice day my mom would kick us out of the house to go play in the yard. I would pack up all my dolls and play things and take them outside. There I would hide in a giant bush and live in a fairytale land. Just me and my dolls in the shrubbery hiding from your Uncle Matty. Sometimes a friend who had also been booted out of her house would come by. Usually though it was just me. I liked it there in that giant shrub because it was the coolest place in the yard. I'm sure by now you've discovered how much I hate the oppressing heat. It was that way even when I was your age.So last night when you bolted out the front door to see what was going on, even though I told you no, and I screamed at you to get back in this house RIGHT NOW!!! and then told you that you don't go outside alone, that is how children get kidnapped and hit by cars.... well I'm sorry about that. Sorry about the fear mongering. But when I was a kid, no one really worried so much about that.And I don't want you to think we live in an unsafe neighborhood. We don't. Our neighborhood is pretty nice. We know all our neighbors, even people blocks over. People are pretty nice around here. But that guy in the old beat up car that does 45 down our street while the kids play, he makes me nervous. And so does that saccharin sweet lady who wistfully tells everyone who listens that she never had kids, but that she wouldn't let them be heathens...They make me nervous. Nervous for you. Nervous for our family.All that sweetie, it's just a summer day set of worries...Wait til we get to the big stuff.Love,Mama**********************************************************************This was written for a MamaBlogga Group Writing Project.

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