There were times in the preschool when all of the children were engaged with their own toys. Parallel play is a phrase that would come to mind, when I watched the boy vrooming cars, next to the girl with the wooden animals, beside the child serving pretend pie. 

Other days however it was not so. A blue dress in the costume box became a favorite, and sometimes there were a spigot of tears by anyone so unlucky as to arrive second. Or third. 

I remember a morning when one child was happily wearing a dragon puppet, not quite sure what to say, when a girl put on a princess puppet and began chatting. Clearly the latter puppet worked better, and the first child grabbed it. In the process he dropped the dragon without noticing. 

An issue that cropped up sometimes at snack was when a child with allergies got a different snack. No matter how crunchy the apples and crackers were, suddenly gluten free pretzels looked irresistible. One time a child's hands sailed past her own brimming bowl to grab those pretzels. 

"No snatching, dear. You have your own food." I confess that at times I felt just a whiff of superiority. I would never be so rude. 

This week I heard about a friend's vacation. It involved sand, ocean breezes, ice cream on the boardwalk, and not a hint of chores. Part of me was indeed glad for her. She needed a break. But another, less sunny part of myself was jealous. Why couldn't we have gone to the shore? It's not fair.

That afternoon I went back to a quilt I was working on. The fabric had been gifted to me in a bag of half finished projects. There were designer prints, not cheap I knew, and yardage of collections I had never seen before. They were gorgeous. 

As I sliced through fabric, my thoughts wandered back to my friend's trip. The spinning thoughts took me far away from the beauty resting in my hands, and the generosity of the woman who passed them my way.  

I guess I am still a child after all.