The name of my children’s school flashes across the call display.
My heart immediately skips a beat. Who is hurt? Who needs me? What happened?
I try to put on a brave face and my best Mama Bear voice. Only what squeaks out it a much more timid and terrified Baby Bear.
“Yes?”
“I’m calling from school. EVERYONE’S FINE. But, Isabella needs shoes.”
“Excuse me?”
“She forgot her shoes at home and she only has her boots.”
“OKAY. SO WHAT?”
“She says that she can’t go to gym and her teachers won’t let her wear boots in the classroom.”
“UM.”
“Can you bring her a pair of shoes right now?”
“I cannot.”
“Can you bring her a pair of shoes later?”
“Possibly. But honestly, can she not just sit out during gym…or wear her socks on the classroom carpet?”
“She says no.”
“I’m not asking her. She’s six. I’m asking you.”
“I suppose?”
“ARE HER FEET COVERED IN SOMETHING?”
“Yes.”
“THEN PLEASE DON’T CALL ME UNLESS SOMEONE’S EAR HAS BEEN BITTEN OFF PLEASE.”
“Okay.”
But by okay she really means that she is going to call again tomorrow because someone forgot a pencil or a spoon or a headband or some such nonsense.
And yet.
Tomorrow, when my phone rings and the name of my children’s school flashes across the call display, I’m still going to freak out and wonder who is hurt, who needs me, and what happened.Â
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