Fridays are “eat lunch with mom” day for my four that are in elementary school. I bring either tacos or a cheeseburger depending on your food preference (the Ghanaians don’t like cheeseburgers) and we eat together in the school cafeteria. For now, my kids love it. Someday they will be mortified at the thought of eating lunch with me. For now, I love it. I get to see all their little friends. I get to know my kid’s world a little better.
Yesterday I ate with ShyGuy and Middle-Middle before going to eat with ResponsiBoy and Giggles. The personalities of these kids are so different, it’s hysterical. ShyGuy, who is not so shy anymore, got done with his lunch and RAN out onto the playground like he was in Ghana. He swings and plays and runs. Middle-Middle, in his little glasses, likes to play quiet games. He watches people swing and play and run. But, most of the time it’s too muddy, too cold or too loud for him. That’s just always been his personality. He would much rather read a book or play a card game then have a “ball fight” (the newest craze to hit our home) in our play room.
So, I’m standing on the playground with all his little friends who, just like him, like it better on the concrete, when we see the kids from the Work and Learn Program heading in for class. They are from the local high school. This group is made up of kids who aren’t fitting so well into a regular classroom setting and need a different environment. They spend their afternoons either at other district schools or in the community volunteering. They tend to be a little rough around the edges. Middle-Middle proceeds to tell me all about them. Mom! They’re so scary! Mom! They tell me “what up little man?” Is it okay to say “what up?”, isn’t that a bad word? Mom! Some of them have pink hair! Mom! It went on…and on…and on.
The funniest part was how he kept referring to them as “teenagers”. Mom! They’re TEENAGERS! As if they weren’t even human. I told him they probably thought he was cute. All the sudden he smiled and told me…”well, I touched one”. I told him I didn’t understand. What do you mean you “touched one”? He looked at me like he was the bravest little man in the world, stuck out his index finger and said that he “ran up to one”, shouted “welcome to our school!” and then TOUCHED ONE. He did it. He touched a teenager! Can you believe it? I laughed and laughed and laughed.
I skipped the part about how some day, in the not too distant future, he will become one.
who hopes that day doesn’t come too soon.