“I’m walking out the door. If anyone wants a ride, meet me at the car out front.”
Three boys pile into the car. One is missing.
“OK… we all in? Where’s your brother?”
“He’s looking for his green sweatshirt.”
“Mom, I’m going to be late… hurry up.”
“I need to wait on your brother.”
“Mom… you can’t. I’ll be late.”
“Give me a piece of paper, write yourself a note, and I’ll sign it.”
Clearly, this boy is not coming out of the house, so I began the trek to three different schools, dropping them off by the bell schedule. The first bell to ring gets dropped off first.
- Middle School 7:55 (Actually, I’m not even sure when that bell rings.)
- High School 8:05
- Elementary School: 8:10
On the way to the elementary school, I call home to talk to the one son left there. He’s in third grade. He won’t answer the phone.
I call back. Dad answers. “Do you see him?”
“No, I thought you had him.”
“Nope. He’s there somewhere.”
“Oh, I see him, he’s under the coffee table in the living room.”
“What’s he doing there?”
“He says he’s not going to school without his green sweatshirt, and he can’t find it.”
“He hasn’t had it in over two weeks, what difference does another day make?”
“He says it’s been ELEVEN days, and he’s putting his foot down.”
“Can you just deal with that? I’m dropping everyone else off, and they can’t be late, and I have a writing deadline at 9…etc”
“Sure, he says.”
I came home 15 minutes later to a blessedly, empty house. Somehow, he was convinced to go to school, without the sweatshirt. I’ve looked everywhere, and I can’t find that sweatshirt.