We went to the PTA meeting tonight so that the girls could receive their Proud Eagle awards. Dowlan was at a class, so I took the kids and, as is often the case, the menagerie made for an interesting evening.
We're sitting with a friend from Melody's class and her mother in a middle school cafetorium on the front row, but all the way to the end. I'm not there long when one of my students comes in, looking quite confused. I leave my kids with the friend's mom and walk him over to the band hall for the meeting he's supposed to be at. I return to the cafeteria to find an unhappy Charlie.
He wants the girls to sit in different chairs so that he can be by all of them. I try to explain that there are three girls and only two sides of a Charlie. This does not go over well. I bribe him with gum to get him to sit. It lasts just long enough to be swallowed.
His attention returns to the new source of excitement in his life: his swirly spoon. It is from an eight-pack of yogurt. It's like those wooden flat spoons that came with ice cream cups as a kid, only this is orange on one side, red on the other and has a swirly design. It also, apparently, possesses magical properties. It can change anything into any flavor.
He explains this to me. Loudly.
Meanwhile, the girls have moved to the floor. Charlie goes to sit on the floor. Bored by his spoon, he begins chanting, "Oooh! Oooh! FART! Oooh! Oooh! FART!"
I ask him to pick a better word.
Well, he DID follow my directions. I decide it's time for more gum. He tells me how much he likes it six times before he swallows it.
The talking part is over and now it is time for the Proud Eagles to be awarded. As they work their way through the kindergarten classes, Charlie begins getting worked up. "Am I going to be da pwoud Eagle?"
"No, honey. You don't go to this school. At your school, you are mustangs."
"But I tan't be a pwoud one of dat. I need ta be an Eagle."
"You can be an eagle in two more years. But I need you to be quiet and watch your sisters."
They move on to first grade and I move to the middle to take a pic. I get this one in before Charlie follows me over.
I see the swirly spoon entering my field just in time to move six inches to the left and take this one.
They call a couple of kids from other classes while he pleads, "Take a pickcha of da Tchawie! You need dat pwoud pickcha."
Then I pin him down with one hand to take the next picture.
Since my phone was quickly running out of space, I deleted the two spoon-infested versions of this picture.
Then we returned to our spot while the other grade levels were called. At his insistence, these were taken.
After hearing about fifty third graders play three songs on recorder, they announce that homework passes are available. The girls ask what those are and I explain them to an increasingly agitated Melody.
"That is irresponsible. Why would a FIRST GRADER want a homework pass? Even if my homework is easy or boring, I do it every day because it full of things I need to LEARN. If I skip my homework, how am I going to do well on my tests? How am I going to know the things I need to know?"
Dixie had a different take, entirely. "Can I save this for second grade when it gets hard?"