Belle stayed up well past one am, which made our early Saturday morning food run insanely challenging. She banged her head against the wall and screamed in protest. I quickly zipped myself into a skirt that I paired with a designer top I’d kept since 2000, the year I turned twenty-four. I felt scandalized later on when another mom said her eighteen and twenty-two year old daughters would love the top that I, nearing forty, had on.
Belle requested I read her children’s prayer book at nap time. She asked me to read from her children’s Bible when we finished the prayer book. I either fell asleep reading Belle the Bible or a collection of bedtime stories. Who remembers? I woke up to Belle sleeping upside down. We eventually pulled it together and walked down to a local festival. We spent all weekend at the festival.
This is the last year I can take Belle to a festival without spending money. I really didn’t see anything to spend money on. I wanted beer. Belle wanted a pony ride. We listened to my old friend’s band instead. I caught whiffs of everyone else’s beer and wine. I guess gone are the days when I am just handed drinks. A friend offered Belle a bite of his pork rib, as is if he had a choice. I had never seen Belle so excited about meat before.