A Four Day Weekend
We're at the end of the second week of school, and where are my children? In class?
No, they are laying on the couch, watching Sponge Bob with fevers and scratchy throats. There is coughing. There is pitiful whining. (Oh, wait, that's me.) But COME ON!
Whatever. Welcome to Labor Day Weekend, with Bonus Day Attached.
It is 7:13 and I am swilling coffee, trying to wake myself up. My son's fifth birthday is on Monday, and I am still in the pre-planning stages for birthday week festivities.
I also have several graphic projects to do for my mom's website and offline activities. Not being particularly skilled with either photoshop or css/html type stuff, I have had a quickie tutorial with her web designer on how to update certain things on the site, but now I have to see if I can do it without crashing anything.
And that feels like about a 50-50 situation right now. Maybe more coffee will help.
I come from a long line of "story-tellers." We aren't malicious liars. Nonetheless, my extended family seems to have a flair for fiction. We also have startlingly descriptive vocabularies. I am sure I've mentioned the fact that my kids embellish the truth, and barring that, they just invent something plausible.
There is often no practical purpose for it. We scold, we interrogate, we tease and try to harness that creativity for good. It is one of those things about my own childhood that sticks out. I wasn't a particularly good liar, but I was wildly creative about it. My mother always knew. It baffled me at the time, but now, with my own children, I can spot a half-truth a mile away.
Anyway, to get to the point: my daughter mentioned that she spent a recess "benched" yesterday. That term took me back to elementary school in a flash.
"How did you get benched? What did you do?"
"I went to the bathroom, but someone had locked all the stalls from the inside and I couldn't get in and I didn't want to crawl on the floor and get my skirt dirty so I had Veronica do it but then my teacher came in and said I was playing around in the bathroom and so I got benched for the next recess."
"Were you playing around?"
"No, because all the doors were locked, and I was just trying to get in there but really I got in trouble because I was swinging my feet while I sat on the toilet and the teacher saw my feet wiggling and decided I was playing around."
"Oh, so you weren't playing around? You were just taking too long?"
"No, well, I was wiggling my feet. And I was in there so long. But the door was locked."
I'm going to have to talk to the teacher and get the skinny. She's mentioned that my girl has a tough time standing in line.
From our ongoing dialog about the "benching" issue, it seems that my daughter may or may not have been benched for talking too much in class. Was this an additional benching? The same one? I can't get a straight answer out of my kid. Aah!