She and a friend worked for days--literally--to establish a day and a time they could go together. They finally decided Friday the thirteenth at 7:15 would be the best time.
"You're going with us, right, Momma?"
Well, why not.
I read the book in two days, forsaking laundry and cooking. I thought of ten thousand reasons to back out and let her and her friend go by themselves, but ultimately, I decided that it wasn't just a movie for me and my girl. It was a gift.
My girl is almost a teen. Increasingly, she's becoming more and more independent. She's taking high school credits next year. She's leaving on Sunday for a week at college! She's forming her own opinions that are informed. She's growing up.
So, I continued to forsake laundry and cooking and personal tasks like bathing so that I could spend the evening, invited, with my girl.
My Friday the thirteenth? It was wonderful. I caught a glimpse of my sweet little, tender-hearted girl. It's been a while since that girl had invited me to be with her.
Then we woke up Saturday and she ran out of deodorant and wouldn't use mine because it had touched my outs. And she couldn't decide with shoes to wear. I suggested her Toms, but that was stupid because, you know. Thirty minutes later she walked out if the house with her Toms on. And we didn't fix anything she liked for breakfast because we clearly don't love her and we made her wake up early to go to her sisters softball tournament because her sister is our favorite. And the wind was blowing. So, you know, there was that.
But my Friday the thirteenth was great.