Reality Check....

Taylor came home today.  My heart swelled with excitement as I saw the yellow bluebird bus pull into the parking lot of the school.  I watched as the other girls slowly descended the stairs of the bus and then saw the familiar red ball cap with the curly locks.  I watched her for a minute, marveling at the beautiful daughter I helped to create, and then went to help her carry her gear to the truck.  I witnessed the other girls greet their parents with hugs and excited smiles.  And then it was my turn.  This is what happened.  I saw her, she saw me.  I went to give her a big, warm, welcoming hug and tell her how much I missed her.  She wrapped one arm around me, giving me the awkward "half hug" and then said, with an accusing tone, "What happened to you guys last night?"  What did she mean?  Did she think we were supposed to go up for dinner?  So I ask, "What do you mean?"  This is the reply: "I heard you lost the game," followed by a swollen lip, tear filled eyes, and a sob.  Me (in my head, with a puzzled look): "What the !@#$%."  So I say, "Who told you that?"  She goes on to tell me the whole story about a grandma that went up last night and broke the news.  I will THANK her later.  So the ride home became angry and tension filled as I asked if she had a fun time.  "It was FINE." And we arrived home and she broke through the door and demanded of her father the reason for the loss.  Me (still to myself, still puzzled): "Are you kidding me?"  Reed, feeding the lioness' anger, goes and gets the playbook and recounts every last second of the game, regaling her with tales of good hits, lucky catches, and runners left on base.  All in all, a sad loss, a heartbreaker if you will.  And then he says this:  "Don't blame yourself, you weren't there."  Taylor: "Maybe if I was we wouldn't have lost." (Gotta love the ego, I'm amazed her hat still fits).  Me: (still stunned).  She tells us how she held in the anger and hurt all night long, and throughout the morning, and on the long bus ride home, and then when she saw me "the lid popped off" and she couldn't hold the tears in anymore.  So after some weeping, some second thoughts about camp, and some general anger we coaxed her into the shower.  "It will make you feel better" we say.  And then we start over.  "How was camp?"  And then we get to hear all about it, finally.  And you know what?  She had a good time and it was all about science.  I don't even dare ask her if she missed us.