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February 08, 2005
Dropping In
Are you a dropping in-er? I can't decide what I am. I guess maybe it depends on who it is. Growing up, I fondly remember folks dropping in, my dad would pull a beverage out of the bottom drawer of the fridge and we would sit out on the porch. I would usually hover somewhere nearby on the steps or on the front lawn...I HATED missing out on anything the adults were doing. Forget about playing. I wanted to figure out the adult world. The "seen and not heard" rule was loosely observed...but I never felt pushed aside, thank goodness.
Anyway...the dropping in thing. My mom wasn't so into it. Let me re-phrase that. She never minded anyone dropping in at our house, but was nervous about dropping in on others. My dad tended to be the opposite.
Hm, I can't decide. I don't think I am confident enough to be a dropping in-er...Afraid someone wouldn't want me there and then I'd feel like a nuisance. Maybe it's different in the rural setting...you can almost always find someone outside on their porch or in their yard...so the drop by is more natural....or in the city...there is a lot of stoop hanging out that goes on. It's a bit different in the world of apartment complexes.
I like spontaneity. I like being dropped in on for the most part...except for those days that I get up late and am hanging around in my jammies with bed head and bad breath. Then...not so much...Last night I was dropped in on. I was in my jammies, like I am most days during the recovery. I was ok with it. A little weirded out, because it was pretty late, and it wasn't a friend I spend a ton of time with. It feels good, though, to know someone is thinking of you and wants to check in. Thanks, Bob, if you happen upon this blog somehow. Mi casa es su...ok, no, not quite...but seriously....I appreciated the visit.
Posted by stacey at February 8, 2005 04:03 PM