Here’s what I’m going to miss when my kids get older: the silliness and openness of children at six and seven. They are so fun to mess with and joke with and they allow themselves to be kidded without any self-consciousness. And Red has really good taste in friends.
I had lunch with Red yesterday at the school and got to sit with her and her tight group of friends. I was the only parent there for the five of them. The other closest mother never said a word to me. She barely acknowledged my existence on the other side of the table. I’m not sure what the deal was there. She also didn’t eat. Perhaps she’d come to be supportive but had lunch plans elsewhere. Who knows. Maybe she’s even more shy than me.
I did get Red to eat her whole lunch, though, while observing what the other kids around us were eating. Only one of Red’s friends got the school lunch: ham and cheese on a croissant-like bun, mashed potatoes (reconstituted, I’m sure), green beans (canned), a cookie, and chocolate milk. And regardless of how little nutritional value that lunch had, it looked far more healthy then some of the crap these children were sent to school with. Bags of doritos, snack bars….one kid behind us was eating some Lunchable-type nachos and cheese thing from a plastic sectioned box. Dear god. Will this generation be ruined as well? Red had the best lunch of them all. I will admit, even though I know exactly how hard it is to pack a lunch every day and fill it with things a kid will actually eat, to a bit of moral superiority. I simply refuse to buy a lot of garbage food. The worst Red’s lunch gets is her snack I make from organic cereal and goldfish (blech; I hang my head). I try to temper that feeling with the reality of other people’s lives and a Nunya Business knowledge but I still come up short on days like this. Where is the fruit? Where is the actual real food? The sandwich filled with peanut or soy butter? Even ham and cheese is better than chips and Velveeta. Sigh. Yes, I am the worst kind of human: the sanctimonious vegetarian. I can’t help it.
I gave Red’s BFF “W” a little grief for not eating her sandwich.
“I’m going to call your mom and tell her you’re not eating your sandwich,” I joked with her.
“My dad made this sandwich for me,” she countered.
“Oh, well in that case, I’m calling him at work and telling him how you’re wasting that sandwich.”
“You don’t know his number!”
“Do too!” And I whipped out my (dead) cell phone and pretended to push buttons, making beeping sounds with each push.
“You’re making those sounds!” she said with a grin on her face.
“Nuh uh! Hello? Mr. Dad of W? Yes, this is Red’s mom. I’m eating lunch with the kids and W is not eating her sandwich. The one you made her this morning. Mmm hmmm? A spanking?”
I looked at W and opened my mouth in mock horror. W, eyes wide, grinned, banking on this still being a joke.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said in the phone, “Spanking seems a bit harsh. Maybe you should just feed her lots of brussel sprouts and broccoli. And no tv until she’s ten. That’d probably work. Okay. Bye!”
W grinned. “You didn’t really talk to my dad!”
“Did too!” And then I laughed and put the phone away. Red loved every minute of it.
Across the table, A and L were discussing recess plans. They were going to play Horses, which sounded like the regular thing they did. They giggled their gap toothed giggles and put their foreheads together as they whispered.
T, to my left, ate her school lunch with gusto, finishing every scrap. I told her she got a gold star and was now a member of the Clean Plate Club. She was a funny kid and I joked with her as well. Red was jealous of her cookie. Red’s jealous of any sweet anyone but her gets. Life is hard.
I love this age. Their teacher is lucky to work with this age group. They are so smart and silly, though I imagine its often hard to keep their attention, especially with their penchant for chattering non-stop. Mine is probably the ring leader. I’ll find out more tonight at our parent/teacher conference.
Red was so very, very happy to have me there and while I was sorry that I couldn’t come back in an hour and do it all over again with Dusty (who apparently saw me in the hallway while she was in art class), it was good to see Red with her friends and I was glad to be able to do it. Next time, it’s Dusty’s turn.
After work, I went to yoga class which is a much more serious workout than my previous class. I hadn’t gone on Monday evening because I’d stayed home to recuperate. I knew I needed to go this week so I went. I’m listening to “Water For Elephants” by Sara Gruen on audiobook so that kept me company on my long drive home. Despite any number of cliched phrases that occasionally make me grit my teeth, I’m enjoying the book a lot and I’m taking note of things I need to do with my current mss. I’m reading/listening to books with a much more writerly eye/ear these days. What is it that made this book sell? What is the author doing here? How are these threads woven and tied up?
Then, as I pulled in the driveway, Red greeted me in stocking feet wearing an interesting array of clothing she’d not worn in school, and hugged me hard again.
“I’m so happy you had lunch with me. My friends said you were funny. You are funny!”
It would be nice if I could continue to be appreciated this way in ten years and still be considered funny (as opposed to embarassing) by the World’s Youngest Smartass. But I’ll take it while I can get it.
Life in Scribbletown 