Flashback Friday: An awful friend, that's me

I was in second grade at the time, about 7 years old. We lived less than 15 minutes away from my cousin, Rachel. Our birthdays are only 20 days apart, and we were very close playmates as little girls. I loved getting together with Rachel any time the opportunity arose.

The phone rang one day after school. After answering it, my mother handed me the phone saying, "it's for you."

I was delighted to hear my cousin's voice at the other end, inviting me to come over and play! Getting together on a school night was slightly unusual, but that didn't bother me one bit! Covering the mouthpiece with my hand, I eagerly asked my mom if she could drive me over. After having me confirm that it was okay with Rachel's mother, my mom allowed me to accept the invitation.

Before I hung up, brimming with excitement, Rachel casually suggested that I bring my collection of My Little Ponies and accompanying accessories. Usually we played with Pound Puppies or Barbies, so I was surprised, but not deterred.

Jacket on. Shoes tied. Wide, flat box of Pony paraphernalia gathered. And off we sped to Rachel's house.

My mom waited with the car running in the driveway while I knocked on my Aunt and Uncle's door. The moments I waited, holding that oversized box in front of me on their doorstep, were too long. Eventually Rachel's mother slowly opened the door and peered out through the crack. A perplexed look spread across her face when she saw me, and she opened the door wide.

"Kristen?...Hi honey, um, what are you doing here?" She said something like that. Oh no. Rachel told me she asked her mom, but clearly she did not. We were going to be in trouble.

But my aunt continued, "Rachel isn't here right now." My mother joined us on the doorstep to hear the explanation of where Rachel was and why it would have been impossible for her to have invited me over to play on this particular afternoon. I just stood there awkwardly burdened with a box overflowing with neon My Little Pony manes.

On the shameful drive home, my mother and I deduced that it must have actually been my neighbor from across the street who invited me over. This actually would make more sense, being that it was a school day, and we frequently entertained ourselves with the MLP make-believe. Lindsey never introduced herself, and I simply jumped to the hopeful conclusion that the playmate on the other end of the line was my cousin Rachel.

I have always wondered if Lindsey heard me enthusiastically asking my mom if I could go to Rachel's house and play. Did she think I had simply forgotten her name? And how did she react when, while anxiously awaiting my amble from across the street, she instead watched me shove my box of Ponies into the car, hop in excitedly, and drive far, far, away from her?

I think when we got home I might have called and apologized. That would, of course, be the right thing to do. But I can't remember if I sheepishly went over to play with my second-choice friend that day or not. I might have been too embarrassed.