My 8-year-old son’s 2nd grade class hosted a tea and poetry reading,
Friday afternoon, that the children have been preparing for, for weeks,
and were put to task with having to create their own invitations, for
up to 3 people.
It was very cute and I would love to be able to share it with you,
only, I can’t. Because, I gave it to his grandparents and forgot to
take a picture of it – not to mention, show his father – but, I thought
that perhaps my parents would enjoy the handwritten envelope marked "By invitation only" and "To Mama and Papa, pleeeeease, come!" and I hand delivered it, personally.
"No, you keep it…really…I’ve got tons just like it, at home, already!"
I work from home – yes, it’s a perk – so, I was an obvious 1st
choice on his guest list and the poor kid agonized, for days, over
which of his grandparents to invite.
"I chose Mama and Papa, well, because I told a lot about them to my teacher, already."
Little Man’s teacher is Ukranian and – being that my parents are Hungarian – well, you know, we are practically kissing cousins, afterall.
"Are these the grandparents who inspire you in your love of history?"
His teacher was being very gracious.
"Yes, and he’s the one who was almost shot in the haystack!"
The boy (and his sisters) really does enjoy listening to my father
tell of life in "the old country" – especially, having narrowly escaped
it, with his life – and Little Man’s teacher often allows him to repeat
the stories to his class and has also included my parents into his
history projects. Like, his oral report on on Dwight D. Eisenhower:
"If it wasn’t for people like him, President
Roosevelt and Winston Churchill, my Mama and Papa would probably not be
here, or been able to escape from the bloody communists!"
Yes, Papa’s history lessons can be quite…um…graphic and filled
with colorful language and, quite frankly, I was a bit nervous to hear
my son’s choice of poem, you know, that he finds…GULP…inspiring.
He did great!
What?
Oh, the poem…um…well, I don’t remember what the title was –
because, I was too busy worrying about whether or not I remembered to
charge the stupid camera’s battery, okay! – and then I noticed the dirt
under my fingernails!
Stupid weeds.
"Wonderful to meet you, finally, and thank you for sharing your stories!"
My son and I are going to miss her and – although, she is Little
Man’s favorite teacher and this has been his best year – all that
homework…not so much!
"I just like to tell my grandchildren, like it is, straight from my heart."
She glanced over at me, but I just smiled and hid my hands in my skirt pockets.
"Not many American children are exposed to such
worldly thought, or understand history as much as Little Man does, and
thank you, very much, for sharing him, with us."
I was overcome.
"Did you know that European women don’t shave their legs!?!"
[eyes go wide]
"But, my mom does."
[glancing down]
"I think."
Yep, the boy is a piece of work.
Just like his Papa.
Although, he and my mom haven’t been feeling very well, these days –
they do look great, though, don’t they and yes, that’s Mini-me, she was allowed to sign out of her class to join us and she is wearing her "Brother for Sale" t-shirt, appropriately enough – I understand that having grandkids can be pretty good medicine.
I agree, just not yet!
I’m looking forward to watching him (and the rest of my gang) grow
to be, well, very smart and well-versed in the world of higher
thinking…and yet…surprisingly very down to earth and a bit hairy,
like their mother!