A little daily joy of mine is picking up #1 from school. Seeing his big smile and eyes light up when he gets the first glimpse of our car reminds me of when he was a baby and I would walk into his room after a nap and he would give me the greatest greeting as if to say, "Hey, I know you! I love you! You are here for me!" I love it. I do.
But, last week, #1 slowly walked toward the car in the school pick up. As I watched him mournfully make his way toward us, my heart broke and my mind began to race: did he get in trouble with his teacher? did he forget something important? was somebody mean to him? In the short 20 yard walk to my car, I think I only came up with about 182 possible causes for this very unusual after school sadness.
So, at last the moment came. He opened the door. Our eyes met. He knew that I knew something was not right in his world. I asked.
Me: Hey son, what's wrong?
#1: It was a very sad day.
Me: Oh no! What happened?
#1: Well, the whole day was fine until Ben threw up at his desk.
Me: Oh, that is sad.
#1: Yeah. He cried. I wish it had been me instead.
Sweet kid.
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