But I digress.
This neighborhood girl -- Janie -- has taken a liking to Sophie in what I would call a true, nurturing sense. She is a quirky girl, dramatic and precocious and open. She is matter of fact with Sophie: she says Hello! and remarks on what Sophie might be wearing. She talks TO Sophie, rather than ABOUT her. When I told her that Sophie has so few friends and how grateful I was that she was visiting, Janie said, Well, Sophie, I am your friend! And she sat down on the floor next to her and picked up the various toys that Sophie likes to manipulate and mouth and played with her, chattering on like girls do. I stood in the doorway, in awe, with tears in my eyes. And then I went to get the camera.
Like I said, my heart was warmed and my tears ran fast and all was good as I hummed at the stove, making grilled cheese sandwiches with pears and garlic french fries while my daughter and her friend, HER FRIEND!!!, were playing in her room.
At some point, The Husband came home early so that I could leave and go to a school meeting for Henry (the child who will soon be in middle school, my God!) and while I was explaining that my grilled cheese sandwiches with pear were almost done and don't forget to give Sophie her medicine and Janie is here and she is visiting and playing with Sophie! and then Janie walked down the hall to say hello to The Husband and while they were chatting and I was wrapping a scarf around my neck since it's getting cold out here in LaLa Land, I heard a small cry, a choked cry that didn't sound like a seizure cry but it sounded like something, so I ran back to Sophie's room and found her, head bowed, standing right by the door. And when I tried to open the door, a door that is cut off halfway so that we can keep it closed and her inside but still see her, well, her head was bowed and she was making these strange cries because a chunk of her hair was wrapped around the little old-fashioned lock at the top of the door. Sophie doesn't use her hands and I'm sure had twisted and turned and bobbed her head until the hair was really stuck and it took me a stifled frenzied moment to untangle it and her from the door, but when I did I realized
What if she'd had a seizure and fallen? Her hair, maybe her whole scalp would have come off! I said, almost hysterically, to The Husband while Janie looked on saucer-eyed.
She might have been scalped! I cried.
But she wasn't, the Husband said.
And I know he's right. Except that I'm convinced the things I worry about are not the things that happen. If something bad happens, it's going to surprise me. And if something good happens, that surprises me, too.
Sophie made a new friend today and she almost got scalped.