My 9 year-old daughter had a play date the other day. Her friend lives on a lake, and thought the weather was warm enough to go out in the paddle boat. Then her friend decided to jump in the water looking for shells. Now, if my daughter had been a non-swimmer, there would have been gnashing of teeth, maybe a tragedy, certainly drama. But, since she can swim, she didn’t hesitate to jump in after her friend. My daughter is a black girl, you know. She didn’t give her hair a second thought, even though I had spent hours fixing it a couple days ago. I’m glad she didn’t worry about her hair. She is also a little on the chubby side. I was thrilled that she has a friend that likes to do active things for fun; the lake is a bonus.

Of course, I knew none of this before I called to find out how she was getting home. That’s when her friend’s mother tells me that my daughter’s clothes were in the dryer. I knew she must have had a ball.