I'm Already Married

A quick hour supervising the school office during staff meeting, sorting out a couple of “sickies” who lost their breakfast just down the hall in the bathrooms. Poor kids.

Then back to pick up Yali from the Big House. When I pulled up the driveway, he was wrapped in a soft fuzzy blanket on the porch swing in Mom’s lap. Snoozing. That’s what I felt like doing.

In fact, I almost did the same when we got back home while Yali blew through two hot dogs, a string cheese, apple wedges, and was still asking for “mas hot dogs”. The appetites of these boys. But of course falling asleep on the couch while your three year-old is also awake, isn’t a very likely scenario. About the third time one of his little Nikes landed on my head, I figured it wasn’t worth trying again.

With the morning in the books, and half the afternoon, Yali and I arrived at school for another pick-up. But not before there were two hours of kids running around, trying more or less to stay out of trouble.

Their first conversation was the usual expected “who likes whom”, but then Puck was thrown for a loop when one of the girls said…

“Well, I’m already married.”

“What?”

“Yup.”

“You are not.”

“I am.

“I have two words for you – TOO YOUNG.”

“Well, I am.”

“To who?”

“His name is Snoopy.”

“Yup,” said the other girl, “I’m married, too. To Buddy.”

Puck’s eyes narrowed. “Dogs don’t count.”

And then we moved outside, where there was less silly talk and more practicing cartwheels and splits and balancing acts. And teaching Yali how to play “dead worms”, which was nothing more than lying flat on their backs on the jungle gym. What thrills in life.