It Wasn't the Chalupa

Most times I say things I wish I hadn't said. When it comes to inserting foot in mouth, I've been a master, usually all the way up to the kneecap. My heart is usually in the right place, it's just that my brain isn't fast enough to translate to my mouth. With four women under my roof, that can become a problem.

It's probably also a good skill to learn how to keep my mouth shut, and on the rare occasion that I actually remember to do that, it provides me with the proverbial 'Ah Ha' moment. Like, why didn't I do this more often.

Faithful readers know about my middle daughter's surgery to reconstruct her shredded ACL. Surgery was a week ago Monday, and she's had a difficult time sleeping, coping with the pain, and the frustration of an active kid who drives and likes to participate in life, not sit on the side and watch others.

One of the other frustrations, and disappointments, for her has been the fact that her so-called friends have yet to come and visit. The doctor has kept her out of school because of the medication she's taking for pain, so she's been cooped up in the house for nine days. Only two of her friends have visited. Neither spent a lot of time, but it wasn't the time, it was the fact that they made the effort that cheered my daughter's spirit.

So one of the things I said to her is, there are certain times in your life when you find out who your true friends really are. Now I can't be too hard on her friends because they are teenagers, many of whom are in their last month of their high school career. It's just that I believed more of them were more thoughtful and more mature than they've displayed.

So with that as a backdrop, my better half and I took advantage of our youngest daughter spending the night at a friend's house to grab some dinner with friends Saturday. We asked ACL daughter if she wanted to come. She did not. She said she was tired from being out two other times that day and just wanted to stay home. Fair enough, but I also noticed her spirit was considerably dimmer than it had been earlier in the day. I chalked it up to her pain, frustration, and to being tired.

I also asked if she wanted us to bring her home some food. She said she wanted something cheesy. Nachos. She really had her heart set on nachos. Well, the place we went to didn't have nachos, so I texted her from the restaurant to tell her that, and to ask her what her others choices might be. She said a Chalupa from Taco Bell.

I texted her back and said I don't eat at Taco Bell so will I know the right thing to order? She responded that she didn't know. So we swing through the drive-through at Taco Bell on the way home and we get one chalupa. It's 9:00 and I'm thinking she's not going to want to eat a lot at this time of night. I get home, I deliver the chalupa to her room and make my way to my bedroom to change clothes.

Then I hear the tears. I returned to her bedroom to find her crying and rambling about how she wanted the Chalupa Meal that included two chalupas (there's three choices and I still don't remember what the right one is) with a drink and some cinnamon sticks or something like that.  I told her that I had texted her to make sure this didn't happen. But she kept crying, and instead of talking, I just sat down on her bed and hugged her and let her cry on my shoulder.

I came to find out later that the friends that ditched her at Homecoming had also ditched her for the Prom, which is Friday. She's working as hard as her knee will allow her in order to be able to wear her dress and sparkling Converse sneakers with her knee brace Friday night. She really wanted to spend it with friends she's had since they were five years old in kindergarten. But her 'friends' again showed her that they either aren't as mature as we thought, or aren't really the friends we thought they were.

Luckily, when I went back into her room and sat down on her bed and let her cry on my shoulder, I didn't say a word. Kept my big mouth shut.

P.S. Don't forget to tell your daughter that you love her.