What a week. Noah has the first week of first grade under his belt and Kipper; well…he made it through the week, almost.
Let’s just say it has been a week of winning and loosing.
Winning, as Charlie Sheen would say, because no one over slept, my mother-n-law took me to see a movie, and Kipper learned to do squats at recess.
If only that winning streak would have stretched out a couple of days.
The downhill decent started Wednesday.
First, I went to pick up Noah from school and my car broke down in the parking lot.
As if that wasn’t embarrassing enough…Noah stands in front of the car and yells to all the other parents…”Our car broke down…our car is broken, it won’t start.”
He’s even pointing to me and the car, to make sure everyone knows which car he was talking about. (loosing)
Apparently, my car overheated without warning and needed a new fan.
The car was fixed, two days later. (winning)
The score would not stay tied, long.
Today, Kipper woke up and told me, “I’m sick. Can you stay home with me?”
Being the working mother that I am, I could not miss work.
Noticing he did not feel warm, and wasn’t complaining of any particular ailment, I quickly dressed him, put him in the car and off to school we went.
I would soon be feeling very ill.
After dropping Noah off in the carpool line, where he even gave me a kiss goodbye (winning)…Kipper and I departed for his school.
As soon as we walk into the school doors Kipper refuses to walk. I had to literally drag him to class. Once we reach the classroom door, he takes off running. (loosing)
After I successfully round him up, I take him to the bathroom and explain this is not the kind of behavior I expect from a four year old.
We walk to his classroom, where he hides his face and once again refused to move.
Outdone, I hand him over to the teacher and head to my grandparent's house for coffee.
One hour later, just as I am finishing my morning cup of Joe, Kipper’s school calls.
“April?” says the caller.
“Yes,” I answer.
“Kipper threw up, and you need to come get him,” relays the caller.
“Okay, I’ll be right there,” I say hanging up the phone.
Less than five minutes later I walk into the office and see Kipper sitting in a chair, next to a trash can, smiling.
“You sick, buddy?” I ask him, feeling his face.
“Yep, I threw up in the trashcan,” he says.
My eyes look to the trashcan at his feet, when he quickly says…”Not that one.”
“Oh, which one?” I question.
“The one in the bathroom,” he answers.
“Well, did anyone see you?” I ask.
“No,” he tells me.
With little choice, I pick him up, and take him to the car.
Once he’s buckled, I’m buckled and we are pulling out he asks from the backseat…”Can we go to Burger King?”
Kipper spends the day with my Dad and brother eating ice cream, cookies and playing outside. (Kipper, winning)
My brother said when he told Kipper to do something, Kipper replied…
“You’re not the boss of me, you’re just my Uncle…looser!”
Well, at least I’m not the only one. (winning)