He’s growing tall, my boy. Four inches over the last. Still more to go. And still very goofy.
I went after the Bookfair, where I left him, to pick him up. He was the last student to stay to clean up. He looked over at me.
Tornado E: Hi, Mama!
Me: Hi, sweetheart. Are you done?
Tornado E: I don’t know.
Me: Go ask what else you can do. Ask until everything’s done.
I want him to be helpful. I want him to be of service. I want him to stay until everything is done.
One of the moms: Thanks, Tornado E. Could you go get me my fan?
She was loading up her car with several tables. There was nothing for me to do. Tornado E came out of the school, carrying a large box fan. The mom turned and reached out for it.
Tornado E: This is my biggest fan. Be careful with him.
The mom burst out laughing.
She turned to me: I love his sense of humor. (She turned to him) I love those types of jokes.
The mom: That’s everything. Thank you so much, Tornado E. You can go home.
He came to me. I put my arm around him and walked to the car.
How did this kid get so much of me in him? I wonder if anyone sees anything else but me hanging out behind his eyes.
I kissed his head.
Nah. It’s all him. I could never enjoy math the way he does.