Monday morning was Muffins with Mom. It sounds nice, but it meant getting up almost an hour earlier than usual and being at school 40 minutes earlier.
Well, that was what was supposed to happen. But it didn't.
I completely forgot about it. I went to bed Sunday night and set my alarm clock for the usual time. It never even crossed my mind.
When Biscuit got to the breakfast table, I explained to him that I completely forgot.
"Awwww," Biscuit said, looking disappointed.
"Well, I was thinking," I said. "To make it up to you, what if we had 'doughnuts with mom and son' one afternoon this week?"
"Ooo!" Biscuit said. "That sounds really good."
Well, that was easy.
Next, it was Lunch with Mom. Tuesday was the day for the first-graders, but I wasn't sure if I could go or not. I had to see how much work I could get done before his lunchtime. And since they eat at 10:50, I didn't have long to do what I needed to do. I didn't mention it to Biscuit on the chance I couldn't get there.
I arrived at the school and went to the office to sign in. All the doors at the school are locked. You have to push a buzzer to be admitted into the foyer, which leads into the office. Once you've shown your driver's license and had your picture taken for your visitor's sticker, you can make your way into the main hall. It's quite a process, but nowadays, I don't guess you can be too safe.
So I made my way down the hallway toward some other moms. We all waited in the hall outside the cafeteria for our kids. Biscuit should have been approaching me from the right. But all of a sudden, I hear, "Hey, Mom," and I watch as Biscuit walks past me from the left. He had been in his reading class, and they were late getting back to their homeroom classes to line up for lunch.
So much for a fun surprise. He could not have been more nonchalant.
He joined his classmates and came back up the hall. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the cafeteria where he sits. I helped him unpack his lunch and tried to do all the talking so he could eat.
Sometimes Biscuit brings his lunchbox home, and he has food left in it. He always says he ran out of time. I just assumed he was chatting with his friends.
But today, I found out that even though they told us that they're at lunch from 10:50 to 11:20, they don't actually get to spend the full 30 minutes eating. They leave their classroom at 10:50, then line up in the hallway. Once everyone is single file and quiet, they march down to the cafeteria. Then they have to wait in line for the kindergartners to come out.
I looked at my phone to check, and Biscuit's class didn't even walk into the cafeteria until 10:55. By the time we made our way to a table and got settled, it was 10:58. Then at 11:10, they got a four-minute warning. And at 11:19, we were heading out the door. He had a little less than 20 minutes to eat. He shoveled his food down and barely talked to me. And I have to imagine that on any regular day, he'd be chatting with this classmates. It makes me reconsider some of the more time-consuming lunches I've made for him.
Anyway, while Biscuit was eating, he reached over a couple of times and just kind of stroked the upper part of my arm and smiled. I could tell he was glad I was there. And that's what really matters.
So as inconvenient as it was, I'm really glad I went.
Here's Biscuit and me at lunch:
|Biscuit sucks down his pouch of applesauce. Maybe if I put |
everything in pouches, he could get all his food sucked down in time.
|I love this boy!|