Dad on Duty #111

When you’re a full-size person, working in a building full of fun-size people, you are often acutely aware of the difference in sizes. 

So are they. 

I’m holding an outside door open to let the kindergarteners go out to play.  I’m doing this by leaning across the line of kids, basically arching over them, to reach the door on the other side of the kid line, and hold it open. 

As one KG-er passes under my human bridge, she comments: 

            “You’re huge!”

Thanks.  Really.  Super good for my self esteem.  “Huge” is definitely one of the adjectives I want associated with me. 

I little later, helping 1st graders back in from recess, I step in to take over door-holder duty from a little girl and as I do she exclaims, in genuine alarm: 

          “Please don’t squish my feet!”

Um, I wasn’t planning to.  “You’re feet are as big as my whole body!”  Then she walks away.

*******

I spent a fair amount of time working on lost and found.  My nemesis. 

I was able to identify the owners of several items, which is always enormously gratifying.  I reduced the inventory by at least 1 or maybe 2%. 

{seriously, people; stop whatever you’re doing right now and go to your kid’s school and get your stuff.  I guarantee your kid has something there}

I found a backpack with a name on it.  I brought it to the office, and neither of the gals recognized the name.  “I don’t think he goes here” Valerie comments.  We looked him up in the attendance system, and found out he is a student at school “101” (in the system; wherever the heck that is).  We had to then cross-reference that, to find out…..he goes to Purl.

How in the hell did we end up with his backpack here?

No idea.  None at all.

Heather and Valerie say we can send it through the inter-school mail; it’ll get there in a couple days.  Although nobody knows if we’ve ever done that with a backpack before.  We think it will work?

Backpacks are pretty important.  In this case, his homework folder and notebooks are in it.  Live, current materials.  I’m thinking he needs his backpack. 

Purl is only about 10 minutes away.  So I tell them “I’ll take it over there.  Now.”

I drive down to Purl with the backpack, and take it into the office.  The secretary, which I know from various meetings there, welcomes me.  I hold up the backpack and show her the kid’s name.  “This one yours?”. 

She laughs in amazement.  How the heck did y’all get that?  No idea.  But here it is.  I hand it over to her.  She remarks “he’s gonna be *so* happy.  Thank you”.  She thanks me two or three more times. 

You’d have thought I brought them something really good, like lunch.  It was just a backpack.  And a 10 minute drive.

But that little stuff, that takes one thing off the parents’ or staff’s to do list, makes a huge difference in everyone’s day.  It’s stuff we can easily do.

That you could easily do, here at school.

******

Kindergarten is headed to “specials” which is PE, music and art. 

I move to that hallway to help herd the cats.

One KG teacher is leading her group, but I notice she keeps looking way back.  Which, I’ve learned, is universal teacher body language for “I’m missing a kid”. 

“You have all your sheep?” I ask her.  No, she replies, Little Miss Muffet is running late.  {eye roll}.

I tell her to go on, I’ll go retrieve our Diva.

As I backtrack towards the classroom (the line is now well past us), I find her just exiting the classroom.

Now, to her credit, she looks great.  She has a beautiful dress and a perfectly matching, very large, bow in her long, well-coifed hair. 

When I intercept her, I say “you’re late!  We gotta go”.  She replies, completely unperturbed, “I’m always late”.  I ask her “why?”.  “I just am.  It’s how it is”.

Really.  That is the actual conversation I had, with a five year old.

Ok.  I live with a couple of those women.  I get it.

We chat as I walk her to catch up to her class.  We’re friends now. 

But man…..you already got this going on at age FIVE?!?.  Lord help us all.

*******

Later, as we are preparing for dismissal, Little Miss Diva passes in front of me along with a hundred other kids, to line up for YMCA and car rider ques. 

Since we’re now friends and all, she pauses as she passes me and asks: “What do you do here anyway?”.

I hug her.

“This.  This is what I do here” as I am holding her.

I let her go, and she just stands there for a second, looking at me.

Then she smiles, and walks on down to her assigned spot, looking back over her shoulder at me, once, still smiling.

That.  That is what I do here.  At it’s core, that is my job.

******

My routine is that I take lunch to Tori, across the street.  When I get back to Cooper, it’s lunchtime for 1st grade.  So I’ve taken to just eating with the first grade kids.

I learned that from watching Coach Nick.

It’s pretty darn fun.

I just plop down in the middle of one of their tables.  The first time I did it, they kinda freaked out. 

But now, it’s getting to be normal for them.

And they talk.  A.  LOT.

Here is a small sample of 1st grade lunch talk to the grown up sitting with them:

            “These French fries are delicious!  I love them!”.  I reply, “I know, I stole a couple from that kid there” pointing….

            Kid: “Wha……can you do that?!?!”

            Me:  “probably not.  I bet I’m going to jail”

            Other kid: “But it would just be food jail.  Not a real jail”

            Me:  {thinking for a moment} “good point.  That’s probably not that bad.”

            Another kid:  “food jail…..” {snort laughing, spits out milk}

            Kid:  “I have potions in my basement that can turn you into a dinosaur”

            {Kid now has my full attention}

            Me:  “Wow.  I would totally do that.  What kinda dinosaur?”

            Kid:  “It depends on what potion you take.  They’re different” {slight eye roll….how could you not know that?}

            Me:  “yeah, that makes sense.  I’d wanna be…”

                        …..before I can finish…

            Kid:  “a pterodactyl?!”

            Me:  “no, although that’s very cool.  I was thinking velociraptor.  Which one do you pick?”

            Kid:  “usually T-Rex”

            Me:  “yeah.  Good call”

******

So many examples today of good things.

One little guy that I am escorting to the front office for early dismissal, sees a jacket in the hallway.  He recognizes it, and knows the owner. 

Now mind you, he is getting to leave early.  His dad is here to get him.  And he is happy about that, it’s a good thing.

Nevertheless, he pauses and grabs the jacket.  “I know who this is!”

OK good, thanks!  He asks “Can I take it to him?”

You are willing to delay your release to the free world, in order to return a lost jacket to another scholar?

Yeah, you can do that. 

And he does. 

Another child, a KINDERGARTNER, is asked by her teacher to help guide a special needs student down the hall and back to class.   She will need to hold the hand of the special needs scholar, for a long way and a long time.

And the special needs kid doesn’t walk easily.  She is distracted and goes off course, often. 

This KG-er sticks to it, is persistent and focused and caring and….handles it exceptionally well. 

She assumes this responsibility willingly and capably. 

And she is FIVE. 

******

Some fun random images from today.

You’ve already made it through 100 days of school.  Look how far you’ve already come!  This is gonna be easy-peasy.

Bats are a real issue.  Just a couple of days ago they found one in the middle school across the street.  This is definitely a Texas thing; I bet they don’t have to put these signs up in schools in Ohio.

I love this message, with all my heart.  And this particular teacher really makes this true.  It is a perfect message with which to leave you.  Stretch your minds.  Embrace mistakes.  Learn.