Mary's stick

See that twig amidst the garage clutter? 

That’s Mary’s stick.

Which I’m glad I did not let her bring into the house about two weeks ago when she first picked it up on the way to the neighborhood Mickey D’s.  Otherwise, I would already have broken into little pieces and thrown out with the trash. 

After all, it is JUST a stick, isn’t it?

When we were getting into the car this morning on our way to school, Mary saw it laying there.  Once in the car, she proceeded to tell me how much it meant to her. “I don’t know why but it’s just so precious— it’s so cute!”

Cute? This stick? 

I totally respect other people’s feelings even if I don’t understand them sometimes so I just told her that it might be difficult to pack it when we move— we might not be able to take it with us. 

“No, we have to take it!!!”

When I got back from dropping her off, I regaled Jack with the incident as I found it amusing.  To my surprise, he told me about how HE had found a stick when he was 10, kept it for a long time, and had even taken with him to college.  And he even named it— Sting!  He still misses Sting, he says, ever since one college roommate, unknowingly, burned it…

Mary may not take after Jack in looks, but she sure takes after him in other ways.