Bye bye masks! It would feel good to burn them all, but BB still needs them for the bus and it’s not my style to get rid of something I might need in the future. Just ask my over-stuffed house.
I’m relieved for BB. It’s tough going wandering around with a mask and fogged up glasses. Last year, a week after her ophthalmologist appointment, her pre-k teacher mentions,
“I’m worried she’s having a hard time seeing. How are her glasses?”
Great as far as I know. I ask BB,
“Are you having a hard time seeing?”
“My glasses were fogged up.”
Now she wipes them, but a year ago I think she may have just sat there and waited it out.
And now there is no daily feedback from her teacher. I’m left to sift through BB’s version of events in an often futile effort to discover the truth.
The other night BB was telling a very long winded, detailed version, of that day’s recess. It bordered on fantastical. She finished with,
“Then So-and-so grabbed snowflakes from the air, made a snowball and was about to throw it at So-and-so, but I stepped in between and blocked it.”
“I thought you had indoor recess today.”
“Oh yeah, we did. This was back in the fall.”
The next morning she prances to breakfast in a tutu. She tells me,
“Mr. L. told us to wear tutus today.”
“Your gym teacher told everyone to wear a tutu?”
“Don’t tell him I said that.”
And BB may be introverted, but it’s good to know she feels very comfortable giving her teacher a piece of her mind.
At the beginning of the year her teacher called on her to answer a question, to which BB replied,
“Oh no Mrs. C. I wasn’t raising my hand.”
Then last week BB came home and told me,
“Mrs. C. told me to practice my lower case letters.”
“Ok.”
“I told her I don’t have time for that.”
I told Mrs. C. it turns out we do have time for that.
Then in passing BB mentions that math is hard. A little alarm bell goes off in my head. I ask,
“What’s hard about it?”
“I lose my breath saying all those numbers.”
Good to know.
And this was from awhile ago, but it may be one of my all-time favorites. BB and her class were learning the song “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee.” BB informs me,
“It’s in old English and it always makes me want cupcakes.”
“Cupcakes?!?”
“Yeah you know… My country, ’tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee ICING!”
Now I want a cupcake too.
