The kids bring home a folder of papers from the week every Friday. We, the parents, are supposed to go through said schoolwork, review it and send the signed folder back to school on Monday. But in true Stefanie-style, I usually don’t sit down to look at my kids’ work until a day (or two) later.
So on Tuesday evening, I sat down after the kids had gone to bed, and looked over Dalton’s schoolwork. Among the debris of 1st grade announcements and tattered homework, I found a jewel: a journal. And there, on page two, was an entry devoted to yours truly.
How sweet! Evidently the teacher and I agree on that.
Dalton sees me as a ‘care-full’ mom… as in, one that is full of caring. For him.
I couldn’t resist bringing it up to him as he and Asher sat at the breakfast table this morning, wanting to hear about how those solicitous, and oft-unsaid, words about his momma occurred to him.
“Dalton! I was reading this journal of yours from school. And I saw the entry you wrote about me…”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I couldn’t think of aaaanything else to write about.”
Asher and I laughed about Dalton’s tactless comment, trying to clue him in on the correct method of speaking to a lady. He wasn’t getting it. Thankfully, he has another 10 years or so before he even cares about what anyone of the female gender thinks of him. Or that any girl worth her salt will dot him in the eye if he speaks so callously to her.
Moving on with our morning pleasantries… Dalton and Asher were discussing cartwheels. Evidently Dalton can do a cartwheel, and Asher can not. Riveting. Dalton proceeded to ask me if I could do a cartwheel. I like to think of myself as slightly athletic, I did take quite a few years of gymnastics as a child…
I fell for it. Hook. Line. And sinker.
“Yes, I can do a cartwheel.”