I had a wildhair to go have lunch with #2 today and I’m glad I did. He didn’t know I was coming.
#2 has reached the age where it is very much NOT ok for me to show him any sorta display of affection in public. I didn’t think he’d ever take that route or that he’d be the one of my three kids not to but he sorta has and it’s ok. (I forget this is his last year of Elementary school. I can NOT imagine him in middle school next year. Good grief)
I think he was happy I showed up. Walking into the cafeteria, he said to “Brad”, who is apparently the Class Clown, “Hey…Brad….that’s my Mom.” Heh. Then he’d introduce me to various kids…”That’s my Mom”…in his own, special, #2 way.
I shouldn’t be surprised that none of my kids want me to touch them or hug them. I haven’t hugged my mother since the day of my Dad’s memorial service and didn’t hug or kiss my Dad at all the last decade of his life. Yes, I feel bad about that. Yes, I wish I weren’t so funny about my personal space. Can’t help it. (Mom isn’t much on touchy feely in her space, neither so it’s not like either of us feel the other one doesn’t love us).
Anyway, if you want to giggle, have lunch with Fifth Graders. They’re just funny.
The one little girl there across from #2 with the brown hair, Kayla, is the sister of the Daughter’s boyfriend. It’s so interesting how girls want to know info way more than boys. Kayla was asking me ALL sorts of questions or really, it was more telling me things about myself and my kids that she has heard from her brother. It made me laugh. “So you live where? In Franklin?” No….went to high school there. “Oh well, Brother said he thought you lived in Franklin.” Heh heh. Sounds like a conversation I have with people being nosy about stuff.
I don’t guess it will come as a surprise that from this table here, a very large belch erupted out of this bunch of boys. It was so loud, it sounded like it would’ve come out of somebody’s Paw Paw. It echoed throughout the chambers of the cafeteria, weaving in and out of the plastic lunch trays as only a burp by a 10-11 year old boy could. Fabulous.
The Belch Boys started mugging for me…
“Hey Trevor’s Mom…put this in the yearbook.”
#2′s good buddy Stone couldn’t resist the Rabbit Ears.
I wish I’d have taken a shot of the kids who were forced to sit along the wall by themselves. I asked the kids if those were the kids being punished and they said yes. They didn’t look like they were being punished to me! Those kids were just laughing and having themselves a big ol’ time.
My blue-eyed, dark-haired, freckle-faced boy is the best there is…’cept for the other dark-haired, blue-eyed, freckle-faced, bigger version that’s also my son. I don’t guess he would want me showing up at the high school to have lunch with him.