Amanda Lamb: Friday night

I knew it would happen eventually. I just wasn’t sure exactly when it would happen. My older daughter has a social life now and her little sister is left home on weekend nights with only her boring old parents to keep her company.

“She’s going out again?” my little one asks.

I know this is just the beginning of many weekends when her big sister will be at a slumber party, the movies or roller skating and she will be stuck home with us. I try to explain to her that she is lucky to get our undivided attention. Unfortunately, in the moment, this doesn’t sound like much of a prize.

I remember when I was young and approached Friday nights with unbridled anticipation. I remember the excitement with the start of the weekend and the possibility of doing something fun with friends. Now, I can’t wait to simply relax after a long week of work.

“Why does she always get to go out? Why can’t I go too?” my younger daughter says with envy regarding her big sister.

“Because she’s older, honey.” I say gently stroking her hair. “Someday you will be doing the same thing, and Daddy and I won’t know what to do with ourselves.”

On a recent Friday night, her father was out of town. I had hoped the evening would involve curling up on the couch and watching American Idol which we had taped and saved from the previous night.

Instead, she put on an extravagant dance show for me that involved multiple costume changes and everything from ballet to jazz. Then, we spent about an hour talking about her life at school. As I put her to bed that night, I lay next to her quietly in the darkness.

“Mommy, this was a great night,” she said reaching for my hand.

That’s what I call a Friday night…