Lauren bound off the bus today in front of her bus stop friend, Dean, who is in kindergarten and bore a single marigold in a plastic cup for his mom.
"Oh, the plant sale's this week," I exclaimed. "Must remember to send money tomorrow..."
Lauren admired Dean's orange flower. "Mom," she said very seriously.
"I will need you to open Piggy tonight."
"Because I want to use my own money to buy you a present for Mother's Day..."
My cheeks suddenly felt hot. I pressed the back of my right hand against my forehead, blinked away the tears that had come to my eyes, and nodded, "Ok, I will help you with that when we get home."
While I was straightening up the kitchen, she appeared behind me holding Piggy. "I want to do it now so that I don't forget," she said simply. "It's important."
She rushed out to watch some television as I struggled to open the plastic piggy bank, quite heavy with Alec's pocket change she'd been collecting for the past year. All of the crisp bills had been removed with trips to the toy store and pharmacy to pick up a bottle of bubbles or a rubber ball. I dumped an obligatory amount of change on to the table and then slipped a five dollar bill out of my own wallet in the pile. When she wandered back in, I said, "Here you are. I will put it into a bag for you."
She grinned. "Great. I'm glad that's taken care of. I feel better now."
"Cool," I managed.