|Camp Papa and LJ|
This morning, Laura wanted to get to school early for a science review session, so we pulled up in the drop-off lane at 7:45, right after we got Hank to school. Kids aren't allowed in the building before 8, so we sat together in our heated seats while Taylor Swift sang on the radio. Laura was tired and not animated. She'd been home late from swimming and then had studying to do. In the mornings--some mornings--I bear the brunt of all of Laura's annoyance with the universe. The angle of the sun, the air temperature, the sogginess of a cheerio, these things are probably my fault. It's okay, I am maddeningly unfazed by her moods. Some days she saves all her charm and her stories, all her sparkly cheer, for her daddy, which I get. I totally get it.
She sat there and woke up a bit and then kids started to pop out of cars and go into the building. A male teacher I didn't recognize walked by the car and smiled in at us through the window. I said, "Who is that?" Laura opened the door and slid down from the seat. As she did, she turned back and said, "He's one of the vice principals. He's in charge of discipline."
She said "discipline" so archly! How does she know to do that? And she raised an eyebrow and half smiled. In that moment it was like she was twenty years old. I felt like I was looking at myself. Her whole expression just nailed this humorous, like, skepticism about the whole enterprise of, I don't know, discipline? The institution of school? It made me laugh, and she walked away, and her long blond hair was behind her like a flag.
For some reason, out of a whole day, that was a moment I wanted to tell you about.
(Because I also napped, had lunch with Matt, and played tennis, we could talk about those but the shadows grow long.)
I hope you had a moment you liked.