You know it’s going to happen eventually. It’s bound to happen. It’s part of that whole growing up process thing called childhood. That’s a-OK with me, I just didn’t think it would happen quite so early. Heck, he’s only two for crying out loud. Well, the other day as I was picking up my little mini-fireman at preschool, it happened. Miss Julie told me that she needed to “talk” to me. (Insert ominous-sounding drum roll here, please.)
I really didn’t think anything of it at first, assuming it had something to do with Sam getting Angel of the Year Award or the equivalent. Once she started talking, though, I knew that Sam was officially In Trouble At School for the first time. I’ll admit it, this was one milestone I was not quite ready to hit, but I didn’t have much choice. There was poor Miss Julie, looking frazzled and frustrated. Her usual sunny disposition had been covered by rain clouds. And if those rain clouds had names apparently, they would be Sam and Trent.
Apparently the munchkin partners-in-crime have been having way too good of a time together at school lately. It’s dos amigos against the oppressive institution known as preschool — throwing toys, refusing to pick them up, ignoring the teacher, all that Bad Boy stuff you dread hearing about your sweet little bundle o’ joy. And as has been their pattern, Trent is the mastermind behind the operations and Sam the blind follower. Here’s how it works – Trent comes up with great ideas like running away at the mall or horsing around at the back of the room during story hour at the library. Then he takes off, and Sam gets crazy glimmer in his eye and lopes off in hot pursuit, giggling the whole time like “I don’t what we’re doing, but it’s going to be fun!’
Trent is Sam’s first real buddy, you see. His mother and I have been fostering this friendship since before they were born, literally. We met through our Mother’s Club when we were both eight months pregnant, feeling large and in charge. After delivering within a day of each other at the same hospital, we have been getting together ever since. It’s only lately, though, that they have really hit it off. Now they get really excited to see each other and start walking around holding hands.
So, back to the problem at hand. What did I do? First and foremost, I summoned all my energy, resisted the overwhelming urge to laugh my head off picturing all the antics going down in the Green Room. Second, I had him apologize to Miss Julie for taking a year or two off her life, all for not nearly enough pay. Third, I gave him a stern talking-to without laughing, mustering my best disapproving tone of voice. It went something like this:
Me: “Sam, you need to listen to Miss Julie and not listen to Trent.”
Sam: “Sam wants to listen to Frent.” Exhibits no signs of remorse.
Me: Resists urge to pull over and split my sides laughing. “Sam, if you listen to Trent, you are going to get into trouble. If you listen to Miss Julie, you are going to do the right thing.
Sam: “Sam doesn’t want to do the right thing.”
Me: “Well, Sam, if it happens again, you are going to get a time-out when we get home. Plus, you won’t be able to watch TV for the rest of the day.”
Sam: Displays look of unabashed horror at the thought of not being able to watch his precious “TB,” as he calls it. Silent for a while. Eventually utters, “Sam’s a good boy.”
And that he is. Case closed.
LibbY