Here’s to you, Mrs. Robinson
Is it wrong for me to give an eight year-old a quarter and hope he calls me in ten years?
I’ve known sweet Aaron since diapers. We were reunited in Phoenix at Thanksgiving. I chased him around the house yelling, “I’m going to kiss you. Give Aunt Marna some hot loving.” He squealed with equal amounts of excitement and disgust.
When his deadbeat dad didn’t find the time to help him with a homework project, who did he call for help? Cool Aunt Marna. I was asked to assist with his Flat Stanley assignment. His Stanley drawing was coming to LA to visit and Aaron was going to use the pictures I took to write a story.
I went from Pasadena to Hollywood and finished at the beach, snapping pictures of Stanley enjoying LA. I don’t remember homework ever being this fun.
Thanks, Aaron, for thinking of me. Yesterday, a man 30 years older than you decided he didn’t want me. Today, you did and you thanked me. What a difference a day makes.
Don’t forget to call me in 10 years.