a diary of a mom

{image is a very silly selfie of me, Katie, and a very large bag of popcorn before the movie on Saturday}

I sit in the darkened theater next to my girl.

Tensions run high as the war in Panem rages onscreen.

Katniss runs for her life.

On impulse, I reach for Katie’s hand in the darkness.

She pulls it away.

I look for her face but it’s too dark to see. Stung by what I assume is rejection, I wonder if I should apologize for forgetting that she’s thirteen. That thirteen year-olds don’t hold hands with their moms at the movies. That, well, something.

The screen lightens and I can see clearly now as she pushes her sleeve to the elbow, then, with a sly grin, extends her forearm across my lap. She catches my eye and I smile back in wordless consent.

I tickle my girl’s arm in the darkness … with no apologies.