My husband’s second cousin’s daughter (try saying that three times!) spent the night with us, and we had a blast! John and I had so much fun keeping up with an eight-year-old in our house, forcing ourselves to eat vanilla ice cream smothered in chocolate sauce. We hopped out of bed on Saturday morning eager and excited for another amazing day, living life through a small child.
I outlined the plan to Charlie—we’d schlep over to Dollar General, the best place to scoop up chalk and decent snacks and bubbles, of course. Then we’d hop over to the park in Grand Cane. Those innocent brown eyes fixed upon me. “How long are we going to be in the car?” She’d asked that question a million times, I knew. But I, her second cousin-in-law’s whatever person answered truthfully. “Two minutes”. Charlie’s eyebrows shot up, incredibly suspicious. How could something interesting and remotely exciting exist just a mere two minutes away?
We pulled into the Dollar General parking lot exactly two minutes later, and that kid’s saucer plate eyes expressed pure surprise. We shopped and looked and stayed strong, checking out of Dollar General a lovely twelve dollars later and one of the most delightful places she’d ever frequented.
Charlie asked again, more trusting this time. “Thank you for these gifts. But how long until we get to the park?” I replied again, with all the confidence of someone in the know. “Two minutes, sweet girl. Just two minutes.” Charlie’s face reflected warmth and comfort—I just might be telling the truth.
We arrived two minutes later at the Grand Cane Park, and my happiness soared. Charlie drew on the sidewalk, blew bubbles, and played on the swings. Such great fun! We girls, young and (extremely) old, ate our snacks, drank our juice boxes, and decided it was getting boiling hot and time to go back home. As in my home, with air conditioning.
Charlie’s instincts were like clockwork. “How long until we get home?” Again, I answered, “Two minutes.” This child believed me—finally! Her behavior made me wonder—do her parents strap her into the car, forcing her to ride for hours? Should I ask? Or are these parents victims of the big city?
Charlie and I came home, watched a kid movie, and played some board games. Soon, it was time for her parents to pick her up. They ate lunch and asked their daughter about her visit.
“Oh, it was so much fun!” she claimed. “This place is just magical! When can I come back? Can we move here later?” We all chuckled at her response. I questioned her further—what exactly is so fun about Grand Cane?
“What do you mean, this place is jus!” Charlie’s eyes turned serious. “Every place is two minutes away. Shouldn’t all of us live two minutes from everything we love?” Ah, out of the mouths of babes.
Jann Goar Franklin graduated Russellville High School in 1985 and lives in Grand Cane, Louisiana. She also writes books, which are for sale at The Village Loft in downtown Grand Cane. You can learn more about her at www.jannfranklin.com, or reach her at jann@jannfranklin.com