Letter to the North Pole

My second grade students wrote letters to Santa today. After they asked for what they wanted, I instructed them to say something nice to Santa. One of my young students forgot this all-important last step in the body of his letter. He then brought It to me for editing.

Me: Dude, you forgot to say something nice to Santa.

Boy: [confused look on his face]

Me: You have to say some thing nice to him.

Boy: How about, "You're not fat; its your stretchy pants"?

Ingenuity

It's amazing what a child can do when they're grounded from television, game machines, and iPhone. The Brain made his own shoes from duct tape and cardboard. Apparently, one foot is pointed at the toes while the other is squared.

Wake up, Sonshine!

The Brain really likes to sleep. One might say that is normal behavior for a 12YO boy, but since he's SuperD's son, I'm guessing he'll still be like that when he's 44.

This morning, I let him sleep a little later than normal so when he didn't get up after the second wake-up call, I put on the pressure. Of course, he got mad, and said in his best 12YO mad voice, "Okay! Well, I'll just go right now!"

I guess, in his still half asleep brain, that sounded like a threat.

New occupation

It occurs to me on this fall Tuesday evening, as I take The Brain to soccer practice, pick up Pinky from band practice, take her to the store to buy supplies for a school project, drop her off at home, pick up my son from soccer practice, and ferry him home, (with my yellow fuel light blinking at me), that I am no longer just a mom, or a wife, or a teacher. 

I'm a chauffeur.

In a red sedan.

Victory

Every morning at 6:30, there is a custodian at Pinky's school who sets out two traffic cones with a string tied between them. He sets them across both lanes of traffic at the end of the street in the parking lot so that traffic can't continue into the next parking area. The purpose is to aide the flow of traffic for morning drop-off. I get it. I was a school crossing guard for two years. I complained for two years about people not following procedure.  Also, I'm the mom who complains about people in the middle school drop-off lane.

But at 6:30 in the morning, the only cars in the lot are teachers and band students. That's not really considered traffic. There's no flow to be interrupted. There's a low chance of a traffic accident. So for him to put the cones out that early and make us drive the long way around feels a little like he's just out to be spiteful. (Although, in truth, he's just doing his job.)

This morning, I let Pinky drive to school with her learner's permit. After we pulled into the parking lot, she noticed that the cones weren't out yet. With triumph in her voice she said, "Ha! I made it here before the man did!"

Smarty Pants

Pinky was telling one of her friends about the college campus and kept saying, "usivernity". Now she says, "Obviously, I'm not ready to go to college."

Genius

The Brain is grounded. Because he has missing assignments, he isn't allowed to use any electronic devices. He is clearly upset by this. 

In the car on the way home from school, his big brain goes into overdrive.

The Brain: If I designed a different power source for my electronics so that they didn't run on electricity, would I still be grounded from them?

Me: That would never happen. They're electronic. 

The Brain: But what if I did? What if I made them squirrel-powered or something? Would I still be grounded?

Me: Well, in that case, we would have to give you credit for creativity.

The Brain: So, I wouldn't be grounded anymore?

Me: I guess not.

The Brain: Of course, I'd have to use something that wouldn't die, rot, or reproduce.

Hmm. Genius.