While we were admiring a year’s worth of kindergarten art with other parents and grandparents, the kindergartners themselves and their siblings were taking turns hitting the snack tables or running around going berserk in the desert. As I held Tornado A, admiring my son’s budding talent, I watched Tornado S go up to one of Tornado E’s teachers.
Tornado S: (Sticking out his hand) Hi! My name is Tornado S . . ny!
The teacher: (bending down to talk to Tornado S and shake his hand) Hi, Tornado S-ny. I’m Mrs. C. But we’ve met before. I see you ever morning.
Tornado S: (Looks at her funny) No, you don’t. I have a brother. His name is Tornado E.
The teacher: I know. I teach Tornado E. Which is why I see you every morning.
Tornado S: (shakes his head as in to say, “you,poor, sad, confused woman, I’m so sorry for your plight”) No, you don’t.
Tornado S walked away, shaking his head. The teacher got up and made eye contact with me.
I shrugged, held up my plastic glass, and said, “Good juice.”