100

Tomorrow is the one hundredth day of school. I know this fact because David told me almost as soon as he got off of the bus. It was the very first time that David has given me an unsolicited tidbit of information about school. "We having a PARTY," he said with excitement.

I also know because the teacher sent a note home a few days ago. The assignment was to count out 100 items with your child and send them to school in a Ziploc. Since David had already mentioned the event, I asked what he wanted to take to school. Cheerios? Pennies? Goldfish?

Not surprisingly, David chose Goldfish, a staple in his diet. He had no interest in counting them with me, however. When Michael came home, I asked him to try to get David interested in his homework. I heard him try to engage David several times, but I later noticed that Michael was sitting alone at the table, counting away.

David had already eaten by the time we sat down to dinner and I was vaguely aware that he was digging through the toy chest, pulling out some oldies but goodies—things that he hasn't played with in awhile, but have always been favorites. There were the plastic fried eggs, the powder puff from my pressed powder, the water bottle tops that he arranges like a stoplight, along with planes, trains and automobiles.

He was arranging his chosen items carefully on his trampoline. And then I heard him say, "And that makes sixty." I watched as he went back for item number sixty-one, then sixty-two and sixty-three before I realized.

For the past forty minutes, David had been working on counting out his 100 items. And he stayed with it until he got to the magic number 100.

I know some of you are wondering, did David really have 100 toys on his trampoline? I have to say in all honesty that I don't know. I lost count.