The next morning, the meteorologist tried to explain why it had been such a beautiful sunset.
And I guess I shouldn't
say that he "tried" to explain, as I am sure he did explain it
But my enjoyment of that
sunset had really nothing to do with the light reflecting off of the cirrus
clouds and everything to do with the fact that we were driving home from the
Open House at David's school and I was euphoric.
After David had such a
difficult time at the Back to School Night, I almost skipped the Open House
altogether. It would have been easier.
But with David, as with
most kids, easier often does not mean better.
So, I strategized. I marked David’s monthly calendar, which
hangs inside the front door. We also changed
Instead of trying to be
the first to arrive, or the “get it over with” method, we opted instead to try to arrive at the very last minute,
the “don’t let the door hit you in the butt on the way out” approach.
I had hoped that by
arriving later there would be fewer people.
Fewer people translates to less noise, which would be ever so nicely
muffled by David’s favorite red JVC headphones, which he had requested to bring
along. He had also requested to bring
along big brother, Andrew.
We arrived at school,
nabbed a prime parking space (an added side benefit of waiting) and all collectively
held our breath as we opened our car doors to see if David would open his and
follow us into the school.
And then we watched in
amazement as David led the way, headphones on, marching—no, strutting into the
school like he owned the place.
I did not have to try to
cajole him into the school. There were
no last minute bribes, which is good because having already promised a vanilla
ice cream cone on the way home and a trip over the new favorite overpass—you
know the one that crosses the water (creek) and the train tracks—I really had
nothing else to offer.
First, he took us to his
special ed classroom. And then he took
us to his First Grade classroom. He
showed Andrew his desk and his locker.
With prompting, he introduced all of us to his teacher, even if he did
stumble a bit by introducing me as “Mrs. Mom-mom.”
He showed us the “Get to
Know You” poster that he had made. You
know, favorite color—red. Favorite movie—SpongeBob
Squarepants. What do I want to be when I
grow up—a teacher.
Wait, that is a new
one. A teacher.
How appropriate. Because for me, really for all of us, David