There are friends, I'm told, that you'll have all your life - friends you met before you can even remember - friends who know more about you than you even seem to know about yourself sometimes - friends who seem to anticipate your next move before you make it. I believe this kind of friendship can exist. Which, in turn, means that photo negative of this friendship exists, too.
This brings us to MacKenzie.
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| Get me out of here. Get me out of here. Get me out of here. |
She physically assaulted us and took too long at the water fountain, just to prove
she could. With eyes that whispered, “I’m going to
‘accidentally’ cut four inches of your hair off during art,” she played mind games. She told us which colors could be our
favorite, as she had already laid claim to purple, like if she was a Unicorn or
something.
Through it all, I stuck it out. I
told myself we would eventually go to different kindergartens and I'd never
have to see her again. I told myself not to show weakness. I told myself I if
could be strong and beat her at her own game, I could own the learning center
and rule with the kindness of a thousand Dora the Explorers. I also told myself
that the Crocs she wore every summer were tacky, but that's a different story.
Well, loyal readers, my day in the
sun has arrived. MacKenzie's mom (and, I'm guessing, to a lesser extent, her
dad) decided it would be best to move MacKenzie to the pre-k program at her
brothers' stuffy Catholic school. Maybe they finally saw the need for
discipline the rest of us had seen for so very, very long. Maybe they just
wanted to make one drop off each morning. I don't care. Whatever the reason, I
am free!
She's been gone for a week and I
feel more and more like myself every day. I wear my hair down when I nap, not
afraid to wake with MacKenzie standing over me, a clump of my beautiful hair in
hand. I sit where I like at breakfast. And today, I proudly wore purple to
school.
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