Grape Kool-Aid

Summer afternoons playing with you, my best friend; grape
kool-aid and running through the sprinklers. Never giving a second
thought to what we looked like in our
bathing suits or caring whether our hair was having a good
day or not. Our only concern was
when the carnival was coming to town and if
our moms would allow us to walk to the store
for the newest Rick Springfield magazines.

Our favorite game was 'Restaurant'...you were the
waitress and I got to be the cranky customer;
Barbie was our constant companion and riding our
bikes across the street meant we were cool. Your
older sister taught us all the cheers from her
seventh grade tryouts, and when no one was
looking, even played a few games of Life or
Monopoly with us. We giggled at The Brady Bunch,
swooned over Bo and Luke Duke and caught Pac-Man fever.

I thought your big brother was cool, you said he
was a dork. He'd tease me about my "Two all-beef
patties, special sauce, lettuce and cheese on
a sesame seed bun" t-shirt from McDonalds then
slip me a dollar for my next visit.

Baseball in my backyard had it's own rules; the
willow tree was pitchers hand out, the cornor of
the patio first base. We used to be able to hit
that tennis ball pretty far with my old
Louiseville Slugger, huh?

They started building the Lutheran church across
the street; we sold cups of Kool-Aid to the
construction workers (remember they always came
and filled their coolers?) My mom's garage sales
were the funnest events; you and I were allowed to
stay up late while our moms organized everything.

I attended my first slumber party at your house. On
the Fourth of July a firecracker blew up in my
hand in your driveway. Your mom loved me and I
loved her. I thought your dog Pepper was funny
when he kissed my face.

But the thing I remember most...what makes me think
of you more than anything in this world?

Grape Kool-Aid.

For Susie
June 14, 1999

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