I saw a kid completely covered in snow today outside the school.
It wasn’t my kid, so I didn’t take a picture. People tend to look askance at you when you start photographing other people’s kids, especially at an elementary school.
So you’ll just have to imagine this boy, maybe nine or ten years old, with a crusty snow covering over every inch of his body except his head. Got it?
Now the weather today was unusually warm.
By which I mean it was about 25 degrees. Above zero. Considering that last week it dipped to 50 below, this is practically a heat wave. So the kids were pouring out of the school in great exuberance to greet this relatively balmy air.
A teacher stationed by the buses was speaking into a megaphone, booming out over and over, “Get out of the snow! Get on to the sidewalk! Get out of the snow!”
Snow Covered Boy looked down at himself in consternation and then turned to say to a friend, “I’m going to say you pushed me into a snow bank.”
Little Girl came home from school telling me some things she had learned about Martin Luther King, Jr.
Apparently they watched a movie where a kid time traveled to meet the young Dr. King.
In the movie, the kid tried to save Dr. King’s life by bringing him back to the present, skipping the dangerous period of the civil rights movement. Then he found that the country of the present was unfairly segregated without Dr King’s intervention. So, the time travel kid had to put him back and let him go on and get killed.
I know, right? Pretty heavy stuff. Especially for third graders.
Anyways, this sparked a conversation about destiny and discovering what special talents God has given us to use for good in the world.
Little Girl said she thought that Harriet Tubman had been sent by God to help the slaves. I said that each of us needs to learn what God has called us to do in the world.
“Maybe my special mission is to be your mommy,” I said.
Little Girl raised her eyebrows at me skeptically.
“That’s not as interesting as Harriet Tubman’s special mission, is it?” I said, interpreting her expression.
“No,” she said. “It’s really not.”
Little Boy piped up. “My special talent is armpit farts!”
I got a package in the mail with some new clothes. I was really excited about it, and I wanted to impart this fun experience to the twins. I wanted to be that kind of mom, who enjoys being playful with her kids and sharing life’s moments with them.
“Let’s go upstairs and open Mommy’s package!” I said.
They were enthusiastic about it.
Maybe a little too enthusiastic.
A fight ensued over who would get to rip open the package.
Finally I took it away and opened it myself. I started showing the kids my new things as I unwrapped them, but they were much more interested in playing with the wrappings themselves.
I shrugged and went into the closet to hang up my new clothes.
I can’t even show you a picture of how my room looked when I came back out. They had not only thrown all the plastic wrappings and tissue papers all over the room; they had also gone to their own rooms and gotten more clothing to join the fray and tossed that everywhere as well. It was a disaster.
I could not believe my lovely moment of sharing had turned into this giant free-for-all.
I told my husband about it later and wondered aloud why the twins had suddenly turned into little savages.
He said, “What? They’ve always been little savages, haven’t they?”