Arleigh is turning into me when it comes to forgetting things. She forgets her piano bag only to remember when we get to piano. She forgets her extra soccer shirt, her cleats, shin guards, pretty much anything she really is supposed to have, she forgets. I can’t get mad even though I’m really steaming because of all things she has to get from me, it’s no short term memory. She can remember things that I don’t want her to remember like what I said on the phone to someone 3 years ago.
Anyway, as we were leaving Arleigh’s party Friday night, the assistant coach was motioning to me from the restaurant patio. Arleigh forgot her trophy. I jump out of the van and thank him profusely. I was trying to hide my embarrassment. When I get back to the car I hear this…
“But I used to trust him! How could he do that?” Arleigh is yelling. Ray is giggling like a school girl.
“Who are you talking about?” I dumbly ask.
“My coach.” She says, very frustrated. “I don’t know why he would do that!”
“Honey, Coach Chris just gave me your trophy,” I try to say reasonably. I’m thinking Ray said something to pick at her for forgetting the trophy.
“No!” We are getting close wailing now. “My other coach! Look! I used to trust him!”
Her head coach was on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. He had just lit a cigarette, or as Hanan likes to call them, a smoker.
If you’re a smoker and you know Arleigh and you want to hold her trust, I suggest never lighting up in front of her.