Thursday, April 7, 2011

Real life conversation...

This is a real-life conversation that occurred in my house this morning. You can't make this stuff up, people.

Let me preface by saying that Madalyn walked out the door of school yesterday looking less than her cheery self. After inquiring what the cause of the longer than normal face, she confessed that her mouth hurt. I looked in her mouth, at the gum line underneath her bottom teeth, and it did look a little red, but I saw no visible signs of an ulcer. When I rubbed my finger across the area, I felt a slight bump, and she winced, so I knew I was on the right spot. It was quite a big deal to her; most painful situations are. She's a little dramatic. I know those of you reading this who have been around me in person for longer than five minutes find this incredibly hard to believe that I could bear a dramatic child, but, alas, it is true.

So, Motrin was administered, and that seemed to ease the pain. Until bedtime. More Motrin was needed, but the pain followed her into the dawn of a new day...

This morning:
"It hurts!"
"Okay, okay... I'll give you some Motrin and that will help it."
"But write a note for school."
"No, no... you don't need a note for school..."
"YES I DO! It hurts when I yell..."
"So don't yell."
"But they make me yell sometimes. IT HURTS WHEN I YELL!" {Please note at this point she's committed herself to a low-yell with me; I did not point this out to her, however, knowing it would spin the whole conversation off in another not-so-pleasant direction. I know this girl well.}
"Madalyn, they will not make you yell if you tell them it hurts."
"Okay, just tell Mrs. R that you have a sore in your mouth and your Mama says for you NOT to yell today. I promise they will forgive you NOT yelling..."

Can you tell she's related to a car man? I have a six year old little girl trying to convince me that her teachers require her to YELL at school. And that they'll be mad at her if she doesn't. Okay.

On a totally unrelated note, David's bus driver had a heart attack. I would, too, if I drove a bus twice a day filled with children. But that's not my point. So, of course, they have a fill-in driver and have been told she will probably not return this year. She was such a sweet lady and had full control of that bus without being ugly. And she looked awfully young to have a heart attack, but young-looking is becoming older and older in my book. I digress.

Yesterday, the bus rounds the corner of our street, and I hear this sound... the sound of pirates, almost. Like that ride at Disney, the Pirates of the Caribbean. Boistrous singing and laughing and carrying on. And I thought, "What in the world? Where is all that noise coming from?" The fill-in stops in front of the house, swings open that bus door, and the sound floats down the steps right behind David. The bus driver was perched on her seat just smiling. I looked at David and said, "What in the world is going on in there?" He replies, "Oh, Mama... she don't care if we yell or sing or be loud. She doesn't even make us sit in our assigned seats." My reply, "What medication is she on??????"

If you don't currently live in Shelby County, Alabama, maybe you should. I have the next ad campaign for the Board of Education all ironed out: Shelby County School Systems... where we make our children yell at school and let the kids sing loudly on the bus!


Erika said...

Whatever it is, please get me some PRONTO!

carrie said...

I have a feeling she is on something that you can find in the back ally! I can't tolerate low whispers on the bus much less singing and yelling!