I got this. This post in the 30 Things My Son Should Know About Me series is a cinch. With whom from history would I want to eat dinner and what would we eat?
Oh, how I wanted to be Laura Ingalls when I was a kid. I don't mean the TV version of Laura. I don't want to eat with Melissa Gilbert. I mean the real Laura.
I read, no consumed all the books as a young girl. I was convinced I had been born in the wrong time. I should've lived in Laura's time. I was tough enough, I had what it took. I romanticized it all. For a kid who wasn't living the easiest of lives at the time, Laura's world was exactly what the doctor ordered.
I couldn't care less what we eat. I do have it in mind that we'd have a cold beer together, though. Bottled. This part of my fantasy is very clear. I'm not questioning it.
We'd talk, laugh, learn, open ourselves, sit in quiet happiness. It would be like sitting down to a meal with a best friend. She has no way of knowing, of course, but she was one of my best friends when I was a child. I'd like to thank her for that.