Time Crawls

Parker turned 14 today. I called to wish him a happy birthday. Our conversation was reminiscent of my more awkward blind dates.

Me: Hey! Parker! Happy birthday!
Parker: Thanks.
Me: What are you up to?
Parker: Nothing.
Me: You’re not going to celebrate tonight?
Parker: No.
Me: Oh, that’s too bad. Did you have a party, at least?
Parker: No.
Me: Is school going well?
Parker: Yeah.
Me: So, uh, is your mom around?

I sent him a gift certificate from Amazon.com -- purchased online and emailed roughly six hours ago. Somehow I doubt Hallmark will feature us in their next commercial.

Of course, I invoked the requisite cousinly nostalgia in my e-note: “14.…wow. Seems like not that long ago you were 4, and I was 14.” Alert! Cuidado! Cool points decreasing rapidly! I might as well be smacking my gums and tapping Parker on the head with a cane. “By cracky, I remember when you were yea high to a grasshopper, boy!” To my cousin, I guess I am just another run-of-the-mill adult, smarmy and clueless. Pass the Rolaids.

Ten years shouldn’t make such a big difference. I work with people who are one to four decades older than I am -- we all enjoy the same chai from the Himalayan. We all worship the same God and bear unkind thoughts toward the same President. We call each other by our first names. My mom’s friends are still Mrs. Coleman and Mrs. Spangler, but I work with Kim and Marileta.

Still, when I think about me at 14, I see how the years didn’t slip up on me at all. 1995 didn’t flip to 2005 like one of those “pages ripped from the calendar” scenes in a movie. It was a slow (painful? sometimes) progression. Along the way, I gained two degrees, lost my grandfather. Said goodbye to my pet cat, Allison Marie Haines and to our ‘85 Volvo, Fred. Moved from Murfreesboro to Massachusetts to Arkansas to Pennsylvania.

When my high school history teacher caught us looking at our watches, he used to say, “Time will pass. Will you?” Yeah, I did. It did, too.

And now, here I am. 24. Fourteen does seem like “long ago.” By cracky.


Only a handful of co-workers were around the office today. Most of the editors, including my boss, are in Columbus, Ohio for a meeting at corporate HQ. I wore jeans to work. And…well….since it is Friday and everything, I engaged Hillary in an email game of “Top 5.” Top 5 Embarrassing Moments. Top 5 Foods You’d Bring to a Desert Island. Top 5 Songs You Could Listen to Over and Over. Top 5 (NC-17).

Hillary posed Top 5 Things You’d Like to Do in the Next Ten Years.

That’s easy enough. By the time I’m 34, I’d like to (in no particular order):

1. Meet the man of my dreams and get married.
2. Earn a Ph.D., become a child psychologist, move to a smallish southern city.
3. Start writing a book, either for young adults or perpetual teenagers.
4. Have a few margaritas with old friends.
5. Go to another Harry Connick Jr. concert.

Seems like a lot. I should get started now, but it’s late....and I do have another decade.