Rubbin' Two sticks Together posted 10/18/2009 10:08:25 AM | 18 kudos what's this?     report abuse

ColdinWisconsin

My child has decided that she is going to Puerto Rico for this year's Spanish trip. I'm stunned to say the least. Granted, I did manage to get her on an 11 day tour to Washington D.C. and a few other trips, but Puerto Rico?!?!?

We peddled School cards in August for the Booster Club. Like entertainment cards, they offer a plethora of discounts all at our local businesses. At the very least, they work awesome for scraping the frost off your windshield. We sold cookie dough (pre-portioned in little tubs) for volleyball in September and this month has been Yankee candles for this trip.

While raking in a 40% profit on (heavier than you would think) cases of candles, I have a little chat with my child. Got out our Wal-mart calculator where you have to be standing directly in front of the window in order for it to work and showed her just how many of those beastly things we would have to sell for her to get on that plane. She was unmoved.

She explained that even if she didn't raise enough money, she could roll over her fund raising dollars to next year and take that Spanish trip instead. But her choice of Puerto Rico instead of plain old Mexico did make sense to me. I told her to get on the horn and talk to her father. This was gonna have to be a team sport if it was going to happen. In a community of less than 1,000 people and 40 kids trying to raise money, it was going to get tapped out pretty quick.

She is smart and blathers on about the sites to be seen and saves the fund raising sermon for the end. I can hear him two rooms away....$5,000 in CANDLES?!?!?! I chuckle to myself and hold out my hand for the phone. It's not often he and I are on same wave length and I would like to enjoy this moment.

I explain to him that we will also be selling Christmas wrapping paper, cheese cakes, Door County coffee and 5 other products throughout the year. But, if push comes to shove, I need to know how much cash he's gonna throw in.

"How many times have you been to Puerto Rico? he asks me."

None, but that's not the point. I change the subject and tell him about the two new pregnancies in the high school. Who got arrested on homecoming for drinking, and the latest teenage car accident. It effectively shuts him up. We've got it good and we know it. "How much would you pay to have your daughter more interested in travel than sex, I ask him?"

"Shit."

That one word with a big sigh from him. I do feel a bit sorry for him. He wants to know whatever happened to selling girl scout cookies? Those damn things sold them selves he adds. And I have to give him a nod here, he was the dad who sold over 200 boxes every year. Granted, I had to sort and deliver those darn things, but I've never paid a penny for her to go to camp. Not once in 5 years.

I remind him that she is not screwing around here, she's selling like a Fuller Brush salesman. After two failed adoptions, this community celebrated with me when I finally got her. She can walk down those school halls, peak in any room, shove a catalog in any adults face and they are gonna buy something. I remind him that she pulled straight A's while taking care of this house, mowing the lawn AND babysitting while my brother died.

She grabs the phone and tells him that she will match whatever money we put in. A three way split she promises. And right there it tells us both how bad she wants this. That's a hell of a lot of babysitting. Quiet for a moment, he finally responds..."Whatever we don't raise, we split between the two of us and she comes up with her own spending money." I could cry. In fact, I did later on.

I hold the phone to my chest and whisper..."You're going to Puerto Rico baby."

She lays on the floor and stares at the ceiling with a giant grin on her face. And I can feel it too. The sense of possibilities. That the world does turn in your favor every once in a while if you really work hard for it. If you are willing to give pieces of yourself. I feel young again looking at her. The world unexplored and just waiting for her to devour it chunk by chunk.

I whisper to the ex that she has her head screwed on straight. He mumbles back that she didn't get it from either one of us. He's right about that. I'm a back-packing, roadtrippin' gypsy, and he's a motorcycling road trippin' red neck. Responsible and respectable in our own right, I think it's a near miss at times.

We share a rare moment of basking in this one grand thing we have accomplished together. A kid who wants to travel and explore more than she wants to drink or date. And I remember back to wanting much the same for myself when I was her age. My father saying to me..."What's it worth to you? Figure that out and then make it happen."

I get off the phone and lay down next to her. Black circles under our eyes, bodies weary from battling the H1N1 virus and I whisper the same words in her ear.

"What's it worth to you? Figure that out and then make it happen."

"Watch my smoke mom. You just watch me." She turns her head away from me and back to the ceiling where an invisible movie seems to be playing for her of how her choices are playing out. And I am in wonder and awe that I was privy to such a moment. To see a teenager love their life, be proud of their choices, and revel in their victories.

"We've rubbed two sticks together to make fire before mom, we just need to do it again."

And she's right. It always works out. Always.

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