May 20, 2010


At dinner last night, Graeden informed me that his bus driver would be calling me.
Me: Huh? Why?
Graeden: I don't know.

My first thought was that he'd hit someone. You know, like he does his brothers. Daily. Nope. He wouldn't admit to that. Then I thought he'd called someone a name. Poop nugget is the name of choice this week. Nope. Not that, either.
I was at a loss for what kind of trouble he got into.

So, I noticed later that a voicemail had come in. I listened to it and found out that the bus driver was driving a different bus than normal and it behaved in a little different fashion than she was accustomed to. When she started the engine, the door closed on Graeden as he was getting on. He got a little squished and a lot scared.

And today she gave him a special M&Ms baseball...hoping all is well. And I'm wondering why it is that my first thought to an authority figure wanting to call me is that my boy was naughty. My poor boy was hurt and frightened and so shy about talking to me about it. That's what I'm feeling sad about. It was a big deal to him and he couldn't tell me about it. But rather just danced around the edges of a conversation.

2 Riveting COMMENTS:

  1. Poor fellow! I have to work on not assuming the worst too. Oh well, that's why we're mothers, we gotta keep learning! :D

  2. He is amazingly perfect at school... really. Quiet, polite, well-behaved! You couldn't ask for a better little boy!


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