pink polka-dot pjs
Recently I thought of something that happened when I was probably 12 or so. (Now that I have a 12-year-old, I naturally think back a little more. I definitely felt older than she is.)
My family was in the car on our way home from somewhere and the conversation led to a coat of my mother’s. I said something like, “You should wear your pink coat.” I was referring to a ski coat that she had recently purchased and she said, “I don’t have a pink coat.” I tried to explain the coat and she said, “Oh. That’s not pink, it’s salmon.”
What? I didn’t know what she was talking about. Salmon? I thought this coat was really cute and I had paid extra attention. It was pink.
So for most of the ride home, back and forth we went.
When we arrived, the family dispersed in different directions, but both of us walked straight to the coat closet. I remember it very clearly. It was dusk, so the light was getting dim and we had mauve tile in the entryway (which could also be considered pink. A pink that I didn’t care for very much, if you must know.) I grabbed the doorknob and she reached into the closet and grabbed the coat. She held it out and we looked at it and with looks of triumph on our faces we both exclaimed at the same time, “SEE?!?”
What? How could we both be right?
I said, “It’s pink!”
She said, “It’s salmon!”
I looked away from the coat and into her face. It dawned on me that neither of us was wrong.
So, tell me what is the thought that just came to you? I’m interested in the different lessons we can learn from this story. You wanna write it in the comments? I love that a million different points could be made from one story.