What is it, my little friend Amber and I wondered yesterday at coffee, that makes us hold on to things so tightly even when it's clear it's time to let go.
Preschooler D was holding on to my purse, "Mine! Mine! Mine!" There was honestly nothing interesting in my purse. No gum, no camera, no PDA, no pacifier (not, ahem, that my three year old still uses a pacifier . . . much) -- and I didn't want him dumping the whole thing onto the Caribou floor.
Amber started to laugh. "Isn't that just like us? Determined to cling to what doesn't really belong to us!"
Right next to D was his backpack full of books and puzzles and toys and snacks, but he didn't want that. He wanted my boring old purse. And, though I'll grant you it's a mysterious thing I don't even understand, it had nothing for him.
So, I guess it's time to throw out the old candy and cookies . . . and finish unpacking because, gosh darn it, vacation is over . . . and say good-bye to Shelby tomorrow without screaming and crying . . . and the list could probably go on and on.
Maybe the first thing I need to do is make another coffee date with Amber.