There are only a few things more exciting than “Back to School” day and right now I can’t think of one of them. I woke up early with a smile and an agenda. Get these kids out of here pronto! Don’t you judge me. What I saw in the school hallways today tells me I am not alone.
Now, I love my chillies more than peach pie but some days they make me a bit wonky. And I’ve had a loooong summer of wonky.
And so, off they all went to their appointed destinations and I said to myself: “This girl deserves a party!” A few of the girlz came over for coffee (a great reward for a morning well done) and a little conversating about summer vacations, cancer, exercising plans, nothing much, and of course, concerns about being concerned about our concerned children. You just can’t escape being a mother no matter how much coffee you drink. There were literally bus loads of concerned children congregating today. On any other day this amount of anxious, tense youth would be considered gang activity.
My Z-Man, a High school Freshman, was anxious this morning. Imagine. This was in spite of Fish Camp rah-rah’s, scores of friends, his older sisters’ assurances and my usually great
manipulative, I mean persuasionary skills. On the drive to school he was being especially quiet. For most, “normal quiet” is enough to give people a clue that there has been a “disturbance in the force”. I guess my Back to School giddies overrode my motherly super powers of perception.
In my defense I want to explain a thing or three. For Z-Man, quiet is a way of life. An unwritten code. A super power. In our family, everyone has a super power. Super powers, ya know, like Superman’s ability to conceal his over developed muscles and dashing good looks with bad eyewear. Z-Man has the power of being able to carry on lengthy conversations with a two word or even (when the electrodes and geodes are all aligned) a one word answer. If he is feeling especially powerful, he can conversate with a just a shrug of a shoulder. It’s mighty powerful magic he possesses.
So, in my normally acceptable, abrupt manner, I said, blurted, (whatever): “What’s your problem this morning?” Today my super power was “clueless”.
Z-Man: “I’m nervous.”
See? Only two words.
I proceeded to make what I’m sure he deemed many worthless assurances about everyone and everything of very little importance, mixed with lots of blah-blahing followed by more whateverness. I had to work quickly. We were halfway through the trip and it’s only a 12 minute ride.
I want you to know that it all ended well. He made it through the day, me, schedule changes and unknown hallways.
Here’s the small print: This event transpired with me having an empty stomach, a lack of a doctored up cup of joe and precariously high levels of parental Back to School giddies.
P. S. This tidbit of information will probably be rewarded with a wet noodle thrashing from the Z-Man.
Here is one of my favorite Back to School pictures. It goes back a few years. Big brother chillie is giving little sister chillie some kindergarten survival tips. This is baby puppy sweetness.