Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Walk to School

This is a guest post written by my husband...

We walked to school this morning and held hands most of the way.

It was a remarkably beautiful spring morning, cool, fragrant with all the blooms, noisy with the songs of birds, patterned in slanting light and shadows.

I’m glad we walked. We have fallen out of the habit of late and I realize the school year is almost done.

The Mayor was a little grumpy at the outset, upset that we had not looked for and found his Pokemon cards before we left the house. But the glower left his face shortly.

We talked a little about what he would do at school (Spanish every Monday, work time every day, recess when it's not raining – recess was likely today) and we said good morning to the stream as we walked over the little bridge.

We came upon the smoker man who, unfortunately, walks his dog and smokes his cigarettes every day around the same time we walk to school.

His dog is one of those teeny, pug face dogs that must be quite yappy when it gets to barking.

The Mayor twisted his face and stuck out his tongue after we passed him and ran into his trail of cigarette smell.

We talked about habits, how the smoker man walks his dog at the same time every day.

As we came alongside of school, I commented that the school year would soon be over.

I said, "Soon you're going to be done with kindergarten and on to first grade. How did you get so big?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

I told him how proud of him I am for doing such a good job at school this past year.

I was feeling very fond of him today.

We reached the front door.

I kneeled.

He announced he was not going to have school breakfast that day.

I told him I loved him and that I hoped he had a good day.

He kissed me. Gave me a hug.

Then he said, sheepishly, “I love you.”

I actually had to ask him what he said because I didn’t hear him and my face was less than a foot from his.

I hugged him again.

He asked, as is his habit, “Do I have to go to the cafeteria this morning?”

I told him he did.

I stood up and took a few steps away and he called me.

He stood by the front door and pointed up to a poster on the glass.

"What's this all about?"

I read the title of the event to him (a pony ride event) and said he should ask Ms. Pitts about it.

He turned and walked in the door.

He is so big, yet he still seemed so small.

I wanted to squeeze him in my arms.

Protect him. Love him.

Such a perfect little guy.

7 comments:

Sayre said...

You could have been writing about my son... four years ago. Even now at 11, I have the same feelings.

Lea said...

Beautiful. Made me cry a little. I love my little girl and baby boy too.

BlondeMomBlog (Jamie) said...

Sweetness.

Aimee Greeblemonkey said...

I love THIS.

Brochure Printing said...

That is so sweet. You should let him guest post more often :) Like just every now and again.

John Ross said...

wow, fab writer marries fab writer & produces endearing offspring. What are the odds of that!?!

Seriously, It's a pleasure to hear from Mr. OTJ. Do that some more, please.

Leah said...

Beautiful my oldest baby turned 19 on Monday and I wish I treasured the moments when she was younger even more. I try to do that with my 8 year old. They are little for only a breath of time.