Proud Mother Moments: D.J.

Last night was our Cub Scout troops’ Blue & Gold Banquet where

D.J. was awarded his Wolf, one gold arrow and four silvers.

He also received several segments for Basketball, Flag, Cooking and the Pinewood Derby.

Great Job, D.J., we’re so proud!

_____________________________________________________________________________

On another ‘proud mother moment’.

Parent-Teacher conferences were this week and I was scheduled to meet with Miss Is’ and D.J’s teachers back to back around 5:30 in the evening. Earlier that day, just afterschool, D.J. was adamant about taking dinner to his teacher.

“She has to be there until 8:00 tonight, Mom.”

“I’m sure she has something-“ To put it another way, I was 'busy’.

“She needs something to eat, she can’t leave the school.” He was very serious, very concerned and I knew he wouldn’t be easily placated.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can find in a bit.” I hadn’t even thought about what I was going to fix and was hoping a run to Sonic or McD’s would do.

“And some cookies too. She likes chocolate.” Not added as an afterthought – a requirement. “Mrs. M needs cookies too.” (His first grade teacher.)

“In that case, you make some cookies.” He would have to take responsibility for his demands.

With very little help, D.J. made chocolate no-bake cookies while I rounded up last night’s Happy Chicken leftovers and before the cookies were completely cool, I was off. Maddy’s conference didn’t happen, the parents ahead of me took their 20mns. and mine. D.J.’s was good and his teacher was astonished and touched by the gesture, even though there were sub sandwiches and chips in the teachers lounge. Mrs. M was grateful for the extra sugar, especially if D.J.’s hand was involved.

Fast-forward to yesterday. I received a call from Ms. S (his current teacher) who asked if she could come by in the afternoon which of course was fine. Three-fifteen, the door bell rings and there was Ms. S with our plate filled with fresh-baked, raspberry muffins. She handed them to a very bashful D.J. and thanked him profusely for having such compassion on his teacher. She went on to explain that no one, in her twenty-four years of teaching, has ever thought of her welfare as much as D.J. did. “You’re a credit to your parents, D.J. and I love how special you are.”

My bottle rocket started tearing up a bit and merely nodded in reply. She kissed the top of his head, thanked me for raising such a wonderful boy and returned back to school.

Oh, maybe we’re doing something right. Maybe I should remember that the next time I want to wring his little neck. Now that I think about it, I should have those muffins bronzed.

Labels: Farmers