As I walk to meet the schoolbus this Friday afternoon it is a gorgeous, sunny 25 degrees. The sun is going down as I walk due west to the bus-- the world so sparkling fresh and warm I really want to do somersaults. I've never achieved a somersault in life but just ache to go end over end somersaulting down the driveway.
I pick up the ever delightful Alma and we hold hands walking back to the house. A long, slow 1/2 mile of rare Mom and Daughter time uninterupted. Alma says her gym teacher brought the 2nd graders an almond cake as a treat today. "What's an almond cake?" I ask. It has bits of this an that and is like a salad. "Like a salad?" Ewww lettuce and spinach in a cake? "You know Mom - with Cool Whip." Four short months and salad has come to mean a jello-y, cool-whippy thing with mini-marshmellows in it. She doesn't mean anything green other than the food coloring in the pistachio pudding blended into the cool whip. Salad redefined.