Tag Archives: leg

Who’s the Boss?

Beauty in the day: she’s been coming down to the office lately, generally from recess. The kindergartener usually just wants to do a “check” on achy limbs, that sort of thing. Personally, due to her extremely charismatic and precocious personality, I believe she is just “checking out her horizons,” so to speak. She always brings a certain young lad with her; he seems to be her attendant.
Today, she needed the 1,000 Mile Check-up on her legs. She made a dramatic, albeit cheerful entrance, announcing the urgent need to have her legs checked out, dragging them as she went. The decision was made for her to rest a few minutes.
Attendant waited outside the office, and in the busy-ness of the afternoon was rather unnoticed.
After a few minutes, it was time for the little lady to be sent back to class. About this time, the office door opened and Music Teacher stood in the doorway to inquire about Attendant. “Ms. Nordstrom, for some reason, this young man is refusing to come to Music with the rest of his class……….?”
Attendant stood tall and explained: “She (he pointed to Queen-crippled-leg-girl) told me to wait here.”
Eyebrows were raised, and I informed Attendant: “She (pointing to Diva Darling) is not your boss. He (pointing to Music Teacher) is your boss. You need to listen to him.”
Attendant-Turned-Music-Apprentice nodded in appreciative understanding and went with his teacher, gesturing commandingly to the Healed Maiden to follow him.

Perhaps, for one young man at least, it’s a new dawn.

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Strategizing for Strategy’s Sake

Beauty in the day: they are 2nd graders. One was in the office to take a “break”, something that is a new development in helping with his success. The other has been known to come and sing for me, particularly tunes he deems as “Spanish-Gaelic”, and also likes a little help with his success.
Singer came in dramatically, dragging his leg behind him and punctuating his steps with groans. Upon arrival, he heaved his gangly little body onto the countertop, the back of his hand grazing his forehead. “I hurt my leg,” he managed, with what was clearly almost his last breath. We went to get an ice pack, which he made use of for at least 45 seconds. He was suddenly back by my side, his upper body strewn out over the desktop again. “I want to know if my idea is going to happen,” he said pointedly.
“Your idea?” I asked, following the obvious prompt.
“Yes. I think I could maybe be Strategy Boy, and maybe there could be Strategy Man, or something.” This was a reference to our principals who dressed up as Unity Man and Virtues Boy a short time ago, which was quite a hit.
Someone came into the office, and the conversation was interrupted. It was at this point that “taking-a-break-boy” approached Spanish-Gaelic Boy with a proposition: “If you change your mind, can I be Strategy Boy?”
“Well, you can be Strategy Man, because you’re taller than me.”
“Well, maybe I could, because I’ve been growing a mustache.”
“I think I might be too. I have some hairs…”

#ilikestrategyboyandstrategyman