Celebrate

The wind pushed us across the highway early this afternoon on the drive back to the Big House. Mom and I had spent part of our morning up at school volunteering in the lunch room for macaroni and cheese day (Mom’s favorite) and the office, respectively. We hit the farm down the road for fresh eggs per Carrie-Bri’s request on the way back, an 116 year-old white farmhouse sandwiched between a large pond and napping cows.

Back at the Big House, pickings were slim for Francis, fresh back from class hunting food as usual. He was landed with a bowl of onion soup, which he actually started working on without complaint. Sometimes the kid surprises me.

When Puck exited the gym today, it was like a brief flashback to 2nd grade again.

“I’m on White, Mom.”

Hans’ (aka Mr. V’s) color-coded behavior system occasionally resurfaced with Puck from time to time when he felt like it. He had even made his own pocket-sized version of this color system and carried it around with him to self-classify his behavior. Apparently today he felt that he had earned “White” once again, the “best color”.

Then out came the latest recycling bin finds: more envelopes. And more marshmallows from Heidi; they hadn’t quite finished off the bag yet from Monday. They spent some time letting a fellow classmate toss them from a few paces off into their mouths; he was a surprisingly good shot. Although most of them still ended up on the floor, and then in their stomachs. Because no one wants to waste a perfectly good marshmallow even if it does end up on the floor of a 2nd grade classroom.

Later, after the post-carpool unit had disbanded for the afternoon, as we walked out to the car, Puck took Yali’s hand to lead him down the steps. A little Chinese family played on the playground as we passed where both sisters started whispering about Yali, as if they were witnessing a celebrity in person. Puck caught onto this.

“Yali’s pretty famous,” he said to me. “For a baby. I’m more famous than he is though.”

Puck had other thoughts for me, too. He had just passed all of his multiplication tables, finishing things off with his 12s earlier in the morning, and had been awarded a certificate of achievement.

“So, Mom?”

“Yup, Puck?”

“How about a celebration sandwich for dinner?”