When I was about Daniel’s age I forgot my PT clothes at home early in the first term and felt completely freaked out when I was the only one that didn’t change into my PT clothes at break time. The following day I dutifully took my PT clothes to school and changed at break time, only to realise after break we didn’t have PT that day. The shame, the shame. So I have, to this day, a thing about being appropriately dressed for all occasions. It’s funny how a little thing like that could be so traumatic for little me.
This morning my own personal worst fear came true: Daniel’s school shoes were missing. I screamed a little on the inside, but also knew that this is potentially a valuable lesson for him to learn about taking care of his stuff.
There were tears and a rinse and repeat of yesterday’s drama to get him into the car wearing his takkies, but we finally got to to Aftercare to see whether they had found the shoes, but no such luck, all the while with the Sussies in tow.
I was cross. And sad for him. And then I was cross some more.
So, we all walked to his class, him clasping my hand for dear life as he did the walk of shame past hundreds of school children in school shoes.
When we arrived at class we explained to his teacher what happened, but that this was an important lesson in taking care of your things and she nodded sagely.
The shoes are gone. Gonner than gone. I try not to dwell on what might have happened to them.
I went to buy some new shoes, but he’ll be paying for them out of his pocket money for a very, very long time. And I’ll only tell him in the morning, when we have our next argument about the takkies. Mean, I know, but maybe he’ll sweat a little.
My folks came for supper tonight and I hugged them extra hard as a very dear friend of mine has just lost* her Mom. It’s been a melancholy day, made marginally better by having my family and my children close, those last hugs and sniffly kisses when they’re soft with falling asleep. It really is the best time of day. You want them to go to sleep because you have so much to do, but you desperately want to hold them for just a few more minutes, just for in case they forgot to tell you that one last thing about their day or they need to hear you say ‘Mommy loves you’ one last time.
Tomorrow will be better.
* I never understand the word ‘lost’ when someone passes away. You didn’t lose them, but they are irrevocably gone, your heart ripped out.