It’s been a day.
A creative 11 year old gent
told me he couldn’t work
because his legs were cold,
and then proceeded to fashion
two hard, brown paper towel scarves
around his knees,
while I taught him
to exceed all expectations.
The daughter came in at the end of the day.
I’m hot.
I’m tired.
I hate school.
I can’t do this 'stuff'.
I threaten “I WILL add 20 more HW problems IF
you don’t get serious…
and quit gripping!!”
The son texts he forgot practice
and his tennis racquet.
I’m getting really frustrated.
Before I walk out of the building,
I learn that I will be making yet ANOTHER
transition to my schedule.
I’m spread so thin that I’m transparent.
We get home.
“Pick up YOUR STUFF!”
“Charge your computers.”
“Put your mask in the laundry.”
“Unpack lunchboxes.”
I check my school email.
I need to contact a parent.
I could ignore it but I'm that parent.
I know too well
the feelings involved
with concerns.
I have dinner, grading, and a meeting to prepare.
Then the daughter asks…
“Can I Help?”
I’ve worked,
directed,
assisted,
and navigated ALLLL day.
“NO!”
“I’m in a hurry!!!”
“I want to get this done!!”
“GO!”
She says,
“I thought it would help me with my day”
with a pitiful look
that was given to her
from a direct bloodline
of my ancestors.
Ok.
“You can help.”
I try not to tense as she
moves flour for the chicken
to every crook
and cranny
of the space.
It's like watching Iron Chef
the blindfolded version.
The dog settles directly under our feet.
I learn that today was her worst exploratory.
It’s hard and she is nervous.
She lives with the fear of knowing
she will not have the answer.
Anxiety is as much a part of the day as
the click of the keyboard.
Two teachers noticed her new hair cut,
but not her best friend.
She told me about the whimsical boys,
and the girl who gifted her a
small pink bottle of bubbles
nestled in her bag,
for safe keeping.
PE is the favorite.
Art is good too.
Why can’t the world teach all art (and all PE)?
She really hopes it snows
and NO remote learning
and NO school ever.
Did you know her favorite wrestler
The Fiend
has never lost a match
in the history of WWE?
I start some music.
Tootsie Roll because of the lines
Now dip, baby, dip
Come on let's dip, baby, dip
Baby, dip, baby, dip (just dip baby)
Because we are “dipping” the chicken,
of course.
That leads into Bell Biv DeVoe and Salt N Pepa
and I talk about ‘the day’
that I imagined
myself as
2 legit 2 quit.
I dance.
I can’t help myself.
You know what??
I'm still 2 legit 2 quit.
She asks me about buttermilk.
"You’ve never drank buttermilk?”
Nope
“Take a taste.”
Yuck Face.
“Trust me it’s better with butter
and flour
wrapped around a chicken.”
She warms the water for the mashed potatoes.
I say,
“you can play while the chicken bakes.”
Before she steps down from her stool
she yells
“LOOOK!
It’s a RED BIRD!!!”
The splash of color stands out against the winter.
“Some say a cardinal is always delivering a message from heaven.”
She takes a few minutes to study,
and then
she walks away
with a smile on her face
and
flour in her hair.
