This morning, I find it necessary to talk to Molly (and remind Devyn) about certain relationship pitfalls, such as claiming a classmate hit you if he did not, actually, hit you.
Besides the obvious annoyance, inconvenience, and injustice for the accused (who will sit in time-out wondering how his life has come to this), there is also the risk that a teacher at school might not believe you should you report a subsequent (this time, actual) injury.
Hurriedly, I help Molly with her coat as Keith prepares to head out the door.
-- I'm sorry, but we really have to go. Now.
Clearly, this is a good time to blurt out what has to be the world's fastest retell of the Boy Who Cried Wolf fable, and I rush, in a single breath, to the end:
-- And that's where the expression 'never cry wolf' comes from. Now. Molly. Do you know what the message of that story is?
-- Good! Great! What's the message?
-- Stay away from wolves...Right?
Stunned as I am by this unexpected interpretation, I can't help but stare down at her with my mouth agape; my eyes, unnaturally pronounced.
Yet, we are losing precious time, so I force myself to blink and, then, choose my words carefully.
-- Yes, that's...a good. Takeaway. Message. Buh...
At this point, Keith rushes her out the door and I watch as they go. But I am still standing in the hallway, talking (still trying in vain to ask, "But what's the MAIN message?") because I don't want her to leave without it.
There's nothing, however, that I can do at this point as she disappears down the steps -- my five-year-old is going to school now, determined to avoid wolves. And it just kind of sets the tone for the rest of the day.
(written March 27, 2013... / posted April 3, 2013)