Moving On Up

Z's First Lottery

Z is just impulsive. We're trying to rein that impulsiveness in these days.

Imagine this scene:

We are leaving the grocery store. I am pushing the full cart, passing an old lady, (blue hair, slippers), who is slipping wrinkled, dirty, one-dollar bills into the lottery vending machine.
Keith is carrying M, with B and S right behind him. Z is trailing somewhere behind(as usual).
Imagine you then hear K say, (quite sternly), "Z, NO!"

But he says it too late, because "Slam!"

And then, (old lady voice), "Oh no! I didn't want that one!"

"Slam!" again. (That is the sound the vending machine makes as Z hits the bright yellow button that must have been calling his name).

Then, "Oh, now you bought TWO!"

The boy chose, not one, but TWO, of the lady's lottery tickets for her.

All with such amazing speed that neither Keith or I could even think to stop him.

And of course, neither of us had any cash on us to be able to pay her back.

K told me later that after the look of rage and shock crossed the lady's face, she became calm (amazingly), and said something about how she had been a kid once. She understood.

Here's to hoping she wins with one of those "lucky?" tickets.

Once, when I was naive and dumb (is that the same word twice?), I thought that there had to be other involved parents, here, in Up North, Michigan. I just didn't know where to find them.

So, I enrolled my kids in preschool.

Only to sit at the parent-teacher meetings with the teachers and one other person.

That other person?

My husband.

And try as we might to get other parents involved, only one other mom ever showed up.

One time. Maybe twice.

And she wouldn't talk to me. At all. Mostly, she ignored me. Or glared at me.

So.

We tried t-ball. We were informed the DAY BEFORE that t-ball was to start "tomorrow". We were camping, so we didn't make it.

The next week, the kids were excited. We "went fast...like Lightning McQueen" to their 1st practice. We waited for the coach to show up.

And we waited.

And waited.

And picked our noses and ate it. (Well, we didn't. But they did.) And "we" scuffed our shoes in the dirt. And threw sand. And whined a little.

And waited.

She never came.

We returned the next week.

And then once more. And that was it. We missed one week while we were on vacation, but FOUR practices (absolutely no games) total. The last practice was canceled, because the carnival was in town.

Huh.

So this week, we brought back our Reading Contest book list to the library. B handed it to the librarian, I explained that I read to all three kids every time I read, so I just listed them all on the same paper.

And the librarian (you know, the one that is supposed to ENCOURAGE reading) got visibly frazzled.

She said, "Oh great! What if they ALL win? You read to THREE kids instead of ONE!? I hope they like to share!"

(And then later, to another librarian, when she thought that we were out of ear-shot), "Some lady read to THREE kids instead of ONE!? And they are probably going to win! What do we do with THAT?! Great!"

And we did win. And the sad thing is, we started two weeks into the month-long program. With a total of 37 books. Not novels, friends. Just picture books. That's three picture books a day. That's not completely literary starvation or anything. But it certainly isn't excessive.

Not library-winning activity in any other part of the country.

And I'm still looking for that infamous involved adult. You know, the one that actually wants kids to excel in life. Apparently, it isn't in the school system. Or the rec department. Or the library.

Maybe the bars?