I'd had three small grandchildren for four days and despite the rigorous demands that come with being 9 months, 3 years and 6, things had gone surprisingly well. (How does their mother do this?)
Everybody got fed. Everybody got clean clothes to wear and nearly everybody got regular naps.
I got the kindergartener to school every day on time and remembered to pick her up at 3 p.m.
I got the preschooler to preschool and back without fail even though one day she had to walk in wearing socks borrowed from her cousin because we forgot her shoes when we went to gymnastics.
Everybody got to gymnastics. Everybody got bedtime stories and baths.
I never once forgot the baby.
I even kept track of the magic blanket and the all-important pacifier.
So when I sat waiting for Adell to come out of school Friday I was surprised to see everyone was wearing green. I was curious as well.
Was it a school holiday? Was it "wear green" day and I didn't get the memo?
I realized the next day would be St. Patrick's Day but that was the next day and not today, Friday.
I became increasingly worried as floods of green-shirted kids came out of the doors.
Every child was wearing green but for Adell who was wearing a bright yellow but clean shirt, one of the uniform shirts her mother left me for her to wear.
I had remembered since it was Friday, she could wear jeans.
We had put a pretty yellow and brown bow in her hair.
She had shoes on and socks. But she wore no green.
When she came out, I hugged her and asked, "Were you supposed to wear green today? Did we miss a note?"
"It's OK," she said, looking at me rather sadly. "My mom gets notes on the Kindle so I got pinched."
Oh dear. Grandma missed that one.
No comments:
Post a Comment