Saturday, March 12, 2016
Slice #12- An Oreo Cookie Toast
At noon, I dealt with him on the playground. A paraprofessional had taken his ball away when he was slow to line up. His class is going outside for an extra recess. He wants to know how he can get the ball back before that recess.
Friday afternoon about 4:00 I am on the second floor, talking to a teacher. I see G and a buddy coming down the hall. Kids are not supposed to be on the second floor after dismissal, unless they have a club or permission. It is Friday so there are no clubs. And it is an hour after dismissal, so it seems highly unlikely that he would be there to talk to a teacher.
I try to make my voice sound nonchalant. "Hey guys, what are you doing?"
"I want a drink of water," says G. I can hear that quick hint of anger, that hint that he might be ready to blow, in his voice. I am tired and not excited about going another round with him today.
"You can get a drink downstairs, guys. Kids are not supposed to be on the second floor now."
"But I want a drink," G insists.
It really wouldn't be that big a deal for him to get a drink, however, G and some of his buddies have been known to roam the halls and classrooms, and there are strict instructions that they are not supposed to be unsupervised.
Just then I see my principal come out of the sixth grade classroom down the hall. I am glad to have a little backup.
"Hey guys, whatcha doing?" she says cheerily. "G, it's your birthday this weekend, right? Let's go downstairs, I have something for you."
G follows her down the hall without a peep. When we get to the first floor, my boss goes into her office and emerges with a bag of Oreo cookies.
"We have to have a toast," she proclaims. "An oreo toast."
"I don't know what a toast is," grumbles G's friend, K.
"We'll teach you," says my boss, passing out the cookies.
She holds up her cookie and says, "To G. You've matured so much since fifth grade. I wish you a year of good times and good friends. We love you buddy."
We bang our cookies together. A few crumbs fly off, then it's my turn. I wish him happy birthday and toast the way he handled the soccer ball situation, without totally losing his cool (which he has been known to do on more than one occasion.
We bang our cookies together again, and then it's K's turn.
"Happy birthday, man." he says.
And the four of us eat our slightly banged up Oreo cookies.
Four friends, sharing an oreo cookie toast.
I can't think of a better way to end a Friday afternoon.