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Next Time Take It Black

Ten petri dishes growing bacteria are sitting on my dining room table in the name of science. Right now, I’m not a fan of science.

The same child who is growing bacteria also had to get himself to school this morning on his own. The girl and I go to a before-school P.E. program (she as a participant, myself as a volunteer) at 7:15 a.m. twice a week. This morning it happened that Adam had to leave at 7:15 for a work breakfast (at least I think it was work. It better have been work!).

Just before I was left, I woke the boy. “We’re all leaving now. I’ve set the kitchen timer for 45 minutes so you’ll know when to go to school. Please note that if you fall back asleep, no one is here to wake you nor will you hear the timer.”

In response I received a lovely, “Ungh!”

After the P.E. program was over, I went up to the 4th grade hall to make sure the boy made it to school. “You’re here!” I said when I found him at his locker. “Did you eat breakfast?”

“Yeah,” he told me. “But I put too much sugar in my coffee.”

I know we should be grateful for the little things, and today I am. Caffeine* + sugar + 9-year-old boy = a day in which I am extremely grateful that I’m not the one trying to teach him anything this morning.

*Okay, slight exaggeration. He does have to drink decaf, but still…