On his first day back at school after the snow, Cole’s class was down to about five children. I dropped him off when the school opened at 11, and he was the only one there, which I found rather pitiful (no, I did not CRY. Ok, I only cried a little.) In the afternoon, I returned early,walking in to a quiet classroom where each child focused on coloring a rather disturbing image of a snowman. I wish I’d saved it to show y’all, but I throw pretty much every thing away and this thing was creepy. It didn’t help that Cole scribbled the snowman’s face a rather odd color of grey, not helping the overall effect. The Somber Snowman of Pestilence and Plague. I’m sorry, I got off track there.
So Cole and Hayden are in another one of their “down” periods. They don’t play with each other much at school. That’s ok. Hayden likes to run and wrestle. Cole likes to …. talk about trains. Fine. But Hayden wasn’t at school this first day back after the blizzard, and I spoke to their teacher about this ongoing feud.
“What do you think the problem is?” She asks.
I shrug, glance at the kids’ table. Cole spins in his chair, tossing his gray marker onto his scribbled paper. He stares at us for a moment. We wait.
“Hayden is a wanker.” Cole dead-pans it, straight-faced.
Ensue the slow motion that happens whenever I encounter an awkward moment in life. It’s like a polaroid is implanted in my brain. The teacher and I turn away, eyes wide and mouths agape. She puts her hand to her mouth, stifling a laugh. I apologize to her (come ON, Cole’s dad is British), mostly for Cole’s sake as he’s now carefully considering our reactions. After steering my child from the room I explain that while he may feel that way, he cannot express said emotion. At least not in school.
I told Karen about this incident and she smiled at the reference to her own kid.
“Well, sometimes he IS a wanker.”
Feud or not, the kiddies spent a lovely Friday afternoon together, with minimal snarkiness and with even some… some… reading: