I'm trying to think of a way to appropriately commemorate something that happened yesterday. It was my first experience and I know I'll want to mark it on the calendar and celebrate accordingly every year. It's these little moments as we raise our children that whisper softly to us about the joy that we feel when we look at our little ones.
I got my first phone call from the principal about my child's behavior. Please hold your applause. I am deeply moved. *bows*
So the Boy made it through all of Kindergarten and one day of First Grade before doing what we all naturally want to do.... Hit the annoying kid next to us in the head with our lunchbox. As I bask in the glow of my stellar parenting skills, I silently thank the good Lord that we bought him a soft sided lunchbox. I was at a Deacon's meeting last night at church, and as we had our umpteenth go-round with an endless argument, I found myself wishing I had brought my son's lunchbox with me. Being a grown-up can be so tedious sometimes, always having to restrain ourselves and be the bigger person. I really think that a good brawl would have moved the meeting along rather quickly. But alas, I not only had to behave like a lady, I had to take the minutes of the entire train wreck. Don't get me wrong, there are many things I enjoy about being Deacon in my church, and they are truly a wonderful group of people. But no one knows how to beat the dead horse longer than a Presbyterian committee.
But I digress.... The Man and I had a discussion with the Boy about inappropriate behavior, Christian manners and beat-downs. Neither of us is admitting that we find it funny, at least not to each other.