Thursday, October 20, 2011

Third Thursday Thoughts: The Pocket Incident

Welcome to another edition of Third Thursday Thoughts, brought to you by the wonderful people at Hearts at Home! Every third Thursday of the month, we’ll be sharing our thoughts on the topic of the month. This month’s topic: Tell us about that time at the playground when that thing happened. I like to call my story “The Pocket Incident.” (Names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent!)

Lori Beth was my best friend. We had known each other since kindergarten, and were still the best of buddies in fourth grade. We did everything together. Lori Beth had long brown hair down to her waist, which I envied became mine was just a mousy beige color and very wispy. Lori Beth also had five brothers and sisters. I only had one sister --and we fought all the time. Lori Beth’s older sister, Amy, was my babysitter whenever my parents went out, so Lori Beth always came to our house whenever Amy did. Many times, Lori Beth spent the night. It was like having another sister -- but one I liked!

Imagine my devastation when a dark-eyed vixen named Tina transferred to our school. Tina decided it was time to get a best friend of her own, and guess who she wanted ... Lori Beth! She would bring Lori Beth lots of presents and invite her over to her house. Needless to say, I was never included. Tina’s overtures became harder and harder for Lori Beth to resist. I could feel Lori Beth drifting farther and farther away from me.

One day, after being ignored one more time on the playground, I reached my boiling point. I stomped up to Tina and confronted her.

“How dare you try to steal my best friend!” I yelled.

Of course, Tina didn’t accept my words meekly, and before you know it, we were engaged in a full-blown shouting match. Tina got in my face, and I grabbed her dress to push her away. Her body went in one direction, but the pocket on her dress went in another! I looked down to find Tina’s pocket clutched in my hand, and a hole in her dress where the pocket had been.

“You’re gonna pay for this!” Tina shrieked, and she ran away.

That night, I got a call from Tina’s mother. I still felt I had done nothing wrong, but I followed her directions to apologize to Tina on the phone. It almost killed me! When I hung up the phone, I turned around to find my dad listening to the whole conversation. He was kind, but firm. The bottom line, he said, was that if we hadn’t been fighting, this never would have happened.

Years later, when I was almost grown up, I was talking with my dad about old times, and “The Pocket Incident” came up. My dad remembered it as vividly as I did, but his words now surprised me.

“You know,” he said, “it was hard for me to keep a straight face when I had to tell you that you shouldn’t have been fighting. It was the right thing to do to apologize. But, the truth is,” he continued, “I thought you were one gutsy girl for sticking up for yourself like that! It took all my control not to shake my fist in the air and say, ‘That’s my girl!’”

It felt good to hear that my dad was proud of me. I guess I could have handled the situation with Tina better, but I’m proud that I didn’t give up my friend without a fight. Lori Beth and I eventually moved on to different schools, but I’ll always remember that she was my first best friend.

So, what about you? Do you have an infamous playground story? Feel free to visit the other blogs participating in Third Thursday Thoughts for inspiration! [Email subscribers, please click on the title of this post to view the linky online.]

DISCLOSURE: All Hearts at Home bloggers will be entered into a monthly drawing to win a book. No financial compensation has been provided.


  1. Oh.. I never even thought to share my own moments on the playground as a little girl. Many meories begin to flood my mind as I read your story and the lesson you had learned.

    a latte of blessings & giggles,

  2. What a great story. I love when we can talk to our parents about stuff we did as kids and see their perspective as parents. Sometimes I forget that my mom and I are both moms!

  3. Good story, Susan. Isn't it amazing how much we remember about impressionable incidents like this?


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