Friday Bagel Day Confessions

30 tiny moments: day 28
Since the beginning of the school year Newt and I have participated in a weekly ritual we call “Friday Bagel Day”. Every Friday, before school, we head down to the nearby bagel shop for breakfast and conversation. It’s a highlight of my week.
Often, while we eat, my girl asks me questions about when I was a little girl. She especially likes to hear about things I “did wrong” when I was growing up. Always the perfectionist, Newt gets very concerned about doing things wrong. It makes her feel better to know that everyone makes mistakes.
Even Mom.
Especially Mom.
One day I told her about Sarah Hall. Sarah lived down the street from when I was about Newt’s age. She was a couple of years younger than I was and I took advantage of this fact to boss her around.
We both loved to play with Barbies and I’d lug an old suitcase full to her house several times a week. We’d spend a long time dressing them and getting them set up. When we were ready to play, I’d say something like, “Sarah, I’m going to be Princess Barbie, and Birthday Barbie, and California Dream Girl Barbie. You can play with Skipper and One-Armed Ken.” If she protested, I’d threaten to go home. I always got my way.
When Sarah came to my house, she’d say something like, “Today, I get to be Princess Barbie, and Birthday Barbie, and California Dream Girl Barbie. And you can play with Skipper and One-Armed Ken.” When I refused, she’d threaten to go home, and I’d say, “Fine, go.”
She never did; choosing instead to make the best of things with One-Armed Ken.
I’ve always felt sort of bad about that.
I told my girl that no one is perfect. Sometimes we all do things, intentionally or not, to hurt someone’s feelings. The important thing is to say sorry, be nice, forgive yourself, and let it go.
“Did you ever say sorry to Sarah?”
Don’t you love how kids have a way of getting right to the point?
I never did apologize to Sarah, and to this day whenever I think of her I have a little mental wince. A should-have-done-better kind of wince. There are a few other people I feel that way about. Little offenses like that have a way of hanging around.
I like to practice what I preach, so here goes:
If you have found this page by Googling your own name (c’mon, doesn’t everyone do that?), I have a message for you.
Kim Sinor, I’m sorry we decided to fight after school. Do you remember we brought our little brothers to keep score? I’m sorry we threw rocks at each other, but I’m glad we had bad aim. We ended up calling it a tie, but I told everyone on the bus that I had actually beat you up. And they all believed me. I’m really sorry.
Teddy Gordere, I’m sorry I punched you in the eye. I’m even more sorry I was holding a hard green apple in my fist. It must have hurt. I really should have found a nicer way to say, “Don’t try and kiss me.”
Melissa Gaffrey, I’m sorry I prank-called you in high school. It was mean, dumb, and immature. You knew it was me, and I really hurt your feelings. I’m sorry. Really.
Tammy Christensen, one evening after a church dinner you were helping clean-up and dropped a dish. Do you remember? It was about twelve years ago. When the dish broke, I made some comment that was supposed to be funny. It was not, and I think I really embarrassed you. I’ve always felt bad about it and I’m sorry.
And Sarah Hall, I’m sorry I was such a brat. You were a nice kid and didn’t deserve it. If someday we meet again, I will take you to lunch and you can order anything you want. I promise.
Oh, and I’m really sorry I broke your Ken doll.
It’s good to get that off my chest.