"It is my favorite and my best"

 "It is my favorite and my best" 
~ Lola, 
of "Charlie and Lola." British cartoon.

At the store, we encountered one of my daughter's best school friends. She rushed up to us, looking three inches taller than when we saw her last year and wearing shorter hair and glasses. She beamed at M.

"Are you coming back to school?" she asked.

"Nah."

"Will you ever come back?"

"I wouldn't count on it," M. said, smiling tenderly. She likes her friend, and she did not want to let her down--but there you go.

Later that day, I asked if she missed school when she saw her old friends. Did it make her want to return?

"In a way," she said. "But then I would be going back just for my friends, and I don't think that's a good reason to go back, considering all the other things I don't like there. The food is bad, we don't get much recess..."

In other words--friends are nice, but what I want/prefer matters more. 

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N. has given up on soccer this year. The boy needs structure or he'll fall into sloth, so we've started cross country. So far, he concedes to go along with his team, to practice on "off days" with me, and even to endure some Thai massage on his legs. I'm not sure if he likes it, but he ackowledged he needs something to get him "out and moving."

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Last evening there were two moments when my kids' interests shone through. My son was online and gaming at the same time, but it was near our reading time. 

"I am DOING something and can't stop right now!" he insisted. 

He's a touchy one. As a show of respect for his work--I don't want someone jerking me from my work onto their agenda-- I deferred to his task. I  did not need him to drop everything, I just wanted to wrap it up. So I let him go. 

Meanwhile, PBS was on: a cooking show. M. sat there enthralled as Jacques Pepin piped pastry dough into rings, pulled out the baked insides, filled it with chocolate, and then piped whipped cream on the top layer of crust. She muttered, eyes wide, "I like drawing and I like cooking." As though all she needed in life were these two things.

I foresee having do to more running if this pastry thing is in our future.

N. wrapped up his project . 

"What were you working on?" I asked.

He needed a Pokemon that is hidden in the game, so he looked up a video on how to get it. He then had to do something with a code, train it, and transfer the character to another device.

I'm probably relating it wrong, but it was complicated.

I was impressed. He wanted something, found a source to show him how to get it, committed half an hour or more to following the procedure, and secured something rare.

I'm not into gaming, but this kind of allure and sacrifice must be akin to the glow on M.'s face watching the French chef. (That? I get it. Pastry. Chocolate. Cream. I shall destroy my kitchen and a full two hours to achieve this 30 seconds of blissful eating). 

If life is about finding your thing, I think we're on the right track.