Spilt Milk

It’s back to school today. Hopefully the vacation refreshed the kids as much as it did me. Right before we left on our trip, I received a call from Charming Baby’s teacher.

“Lisa?”

“Yes?”

“Hi. It’s Margaret Philipson.” Why was Sam’s kindergarten teacher calling me in the middle of the school day? I glanced at the clock. Lunch time at the elementary school.

“Sam has something he wants to tell you.”

“Okay.” This is strange. What could this possibly be about? He eats cafeteria food. Maybe the chemicals have finally gotten to him.

“Mom?”

“Hi, Sam. What’s going on?”

“I threw milk.” His voice was quivering. I was sure it wasn’t the lost beverage that had him ready to cry.

After many prompts and prolonged silences, I got the story out of him. He and another equally enthusiastic friend were playing around, flicking the little school-sized cartons at each other. I asked him if he apologized to his teacher and the lunch staff, he said “yes”, and then when I thought he understood the error of his ways, we ended the call.

Later that evening, after dinner and a bath, I followed up.

“Sam, what was the consequence of your behavior today?”

“For what?”

For what? Dear Lord, grant me patience.

“For the milk throwing.”

“Well, um, we had to go to the cafeteria after lunch and help clean it up with Mr. Adios.” I sincerely hope “Mr. Adios” is actually the custodian’s name, and not some horrible slaughtering of the pronunciation.

“That sounds like a good plan. Did you learn something from that?”

“Yes!”

“What, Sam? What did you learn?”

“That cleaning the cafeteria is fun!”

Well…it’s a start.