I believe that life is an information gathering experience. I read a vast variety of books, listen to a wide range of music, have friends from different circles, and will talk to just about anyone about anything.
I find joy in random tid-bits.
Pockets of knowledge are one of my favorite things.
AND nothing is better than a good story.
*God enters laughing*
*rubbing his hands together*
*peering over heaven's ledge to catch this daily event*
Holly finds appropriate cone to pick up second grader from school carline. The minivan doors automatically open and Ryan gets into the back seat tugging at his rolling backpack.
Holly: What did you do in school today?
School. Did you have a nice day?
Are you OK? How was school?
Did you have a spelling test?
Spelling test...did you have one?
I can't remember.
What about math? Did you do the 100 facts sheets today?
Huh? Did you have the 100 facts sheets today?
I can't hear you. What happened in math?
Did you see Caleb at recess?
Maybe? Did you or didn't you see your friend?
Idonno. Mom, can I eat the rest of my lunch?
Holly then turns up the music in the minivan and the two drive home in peace while Ryan sits contently eating his lunch dessert.
Usually this scenario is acted out in one act. I never really thought much about it until I went to a moms night out with some of the mothers of Ryan's classmates.
I sat at the table speechless. They were each sharing stories of when the teacher said this, or when the class clown got in trouble for that, or how all the kids were complaining about the other.
What is the source of this knowledge?
Yep, that is my theory. Girls.
I have noticed in the school hallways that the moms of girls are engaged in conversation.
Conversation, how I long for you.
*snap out of it!*
Anyway, sorry. Last Friday there was an additional act...
Holly and Ryan enter the house through the garage from the minivan. Ryan is pulling in his backpack from school. His face is smudged with chocolate.
Holly walks over to the computer to check her email.
Holly: Ryan, I have an email from your teacher.
An email. From your teacher. Your art teacher.
*pause for Holly to read*
RYAN. WHAT HAPPENED IN ART TODAY?
No. Really. What happened?
Your teacher sent me this to tell me they had a party for you and two other kids.
Why did they have a party?
Because your art was chosen to be sent to a state contest?
Oh ya. Mom, can I have a snack?
And this is why you will find me lurking in school hallways eavesdropping on the conversations of little girls...
When I am not here.
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