Yesterday, I was a little bit late picking Hunter up from school. His school has parent pick-up at a turnaround outside the front of the building, but when they are down to 3-4 kids, they bring them inside and call their parents to make sure they are on their way.

When I arrived, I was told that Hunter had not been cooperative and had refused to go inside. He stood slightly apart, head down, dejected.

I went to a nearby alcove and sat down, holding out my arms. He came over and collapsed next to me, his head in my lap.

"What's wrong, sweetie? Why didn't you want to go inside?" He'd never had this problem before.

He lifted his head. "At first, I was going inside! I just didn't want them to call you!" Head down.

"Why didn't you want them to call me?"

He sat up, voice pleading. "Because I knew you were coming! I knew it!" Lip quiver. Head back in my lap.

Understanding.

"Oh, sweetie. I would never forget you. But," I leaned down, trying to peer into his hidden face, "do you think it might be possible that I thought it was Wednesday?" (Thursdays are minimum days.)

He became very still.

"Do you think I might have not noticed what time it was?" He seemed to be considering the possibility. "Do you think Mama might have been confused? Does Mama ever get confused?"

His head tilted a little towards me. He still wouldn't look me in the eyes, but a small smile started to emerge.

"Do you ever get confused?"

Grin.

"So, yes. I will never forget you. But I might forget what time it was or when I was supposed to be here. Do you think that if I forget what time it is, it would help if the office called to remind me?"

He sat up and nodded, grinning in relief, and was again his happy, bubbly self.


I do so love being able to connect with him, to listen, and to hear his world.

And I love that by doing so, I can make him smile.