Look At Me!

I had a little flashback yesterday.

I was sitting in the back seat of the car with my daughter.   Her baby was in his car seat between us.  We were talking about something.   She did not seem to be paying enough attention to the incredibly wise advice I was trying to give her and I said quickly and without thinking:

“Look at me.”

And she snapped her eyes up to look at me.   Suddenly she was ten.  We were standing at home.  Where home use to be.  Likely with her in her bedroom and me in the hallway right outside her bedroom.    Me, trying to explain something to her, or get her to stop her eye rolling.

Her, not wanting to hear yet another ridiculously long explanation of why I am wanting her to do something, or think about something, or not do something.

I want her to look at me so she can absorb every bit of my wisdom and to do that she needs to have her eyes open to me.   Otherwise, of course, her ears are not going to work.

She does not want to look at me because she is hoping I will shut up and go away.

But the flashback didn’t last.

Because suddenly she doesn’t look like a little kid anymore.

Wait.   Okay, maybe she’ll always seem a little bit like a little kid to me.

But to someone else, she isn’t.

I laughed with her about “oh my gosh that was a flashback”.  She laughed and said the same.

I think she got a little misty thinking about it.

Because now she’s The Mom.    And me?  I’m full of all kinds of wisdom.

And I suspect that in a few years there will be a little man hearing “look at me” and he’ll roll his eyes, she’ll think “oh my God I’ve turned in to my mom”.   And then she’ll remember the moment in the car.

And laugh.

And then call me and tell me what she just did.

And then I’ll get a little misty.