It was 6:50 this morning when I heard the distinctive footsteps of my middle son ambling down the hallway. Distinctive steps—kind of like a duck without the quacking—thank goodness-- because he is flat-footed; A trait, he says he likes because his “feet stick to the floor!”
I was seated at my desk/dining room table reviewing the day's lessons. “Mom,” his eyes lit up, “Can we start school now? I could be done by noon.” Not wanting to quench a desire to learn—no matter the motive—I agreed.
He quickly clutched his pencil box in one hand and grabbed his journal in the other and sat down to begin his “Do Now.” I sat beside him still looking over lessons—Math to be exact—when a sound escaped that I thought best to ignore but I looked to him, hoping to at least hear an “excuse me, please.” Instead he smiled sheepishly, and said with his lisp, “Oopths, that alwayths happenths thith time of the morning.” “Good to know,” I replied, again looking at the Math lesson.
It was quiet a few minutes while he wrote. “Mom, do you know my toes sweat?” He asked. “Hmmm. Well I don’t think that’s unusual, Samuel,” I casually answered, still trying to focus on Math. “Well,” he said, “they thmell like waffles. Now that is unusual!”
I was seated at my desk/dining room table reviewing the day's lessons. “Mom,” his eyes lit up, “Can we start school now? I could be done by noon.” Not wanting to quench a desire to learn—no matter the motive—I agreed.
He quickly clutched his pencil box in one hand and grabbed his journal in the other and sat down to begin his “Do Now.” I sat beside him still looking over lessons—Math to be exact—when a sound escaped that I thought best to ignore but I looked to him, hoping to at least hear an “excuse me, please.” Instead he smiled sheepishly, and said with his lisp, “Oopths, that alwayths happenths thith time of the morning.” “Good to know,” I replied, again looking at the Math lesson.
It was quiet a few minutes while he wrote. “Mom, do you know my toes sweat?” He asked. “Hmmm. Well I don’t think that’s unusual, Samuel,” I casually answered, still trying to focus on Math. “Well,” he said, “they thmell like waffles. Now that is unusual!”
Comments
Oh Brooke! Let me tell you, I thought about you when I wrote this post and what you actually told me Zachary said (or in one case HE told me!). I cringe to think of the things you were too kind to tell!!!!
For everyone else, Brooke "the Peterson Family" was Zachary's first grade teacher. We all love her dearly!!!! Her blog and family is beautiful and worth checking out.
Kim, glad to hear from you...are you settled yet...or for how long?