But the morning's event went swimmingly, much smoother than in years past. My friend Liz complimented Mark, saying, "I can't believe he stayed with you the whole time!"
I smiled, recalling the last muffin day fiasco. To avoid a repeat, I'd prepped Mark intensely before we even left the house.
"What are we celebrating?" I asked.
"You," he sighed. He started to roll his eyes, then noticed the steely silence in the room. "You!" he repeated, more enthusiastically.
"And why am I taking time off work today?" I grilled.
"To have breakfast," he said.
"With...?"
"Me," he answered. He's learned it's easier to suffer through an hour-long breakfast than a whole weekend of angry consequences for ignoring me in public.
"Good," I said. "And of course, the penalty for misbehaving or running off during breakfast is...?"
"I know, I know," he sighed again. "Penalty of death. Eat breakfast with you or die. I know!"
And so we went off to celebrate. Mark acted wonderfully, and was a perfect little gentleman. My heart swelled two sizes with pride.
After breakfast, we visited his classroom. Mark pushed his way past all the tables, and ended up at a solitary desk at the front of the room. It was right next to the teacher, pushed up against (and facing) the chalk board. I immediately smiled, because I knew exactly what that meant.
"Let me guess, you got moved again for talking during class?" I asked.
"Some girl was talking to me," Mark frowned. (He always gets moved because someone else was talking.)
"You better stop talking," I told him. "Or your next stop is outside!"
We watched a video of kids singing "You Lift Me Up," by Josh Groban, and then a montage of teacher's photos with their moms. My tough exterior melted, leaving behind a gushy, teary mess. As tough and strict as I try to be, I'm a sucker for emotional moments like that.
The teacher had the kids introduce their moms and say what they like about them. Mark went first.
"That's my mom," Mark said, pointing to me.
"What's her name?" the teacher prompted.
"Uh...Heather?" Mark said.
"And what do you like to do with your mom?" he asked.
"Play catch with the football," Mark answered. I giggled inside, because the football's too big for my little hand, and it wobbles uncontrollably when I throw it...which is probably why Mark likes playing catch with me, because it's funny!
The next activity was painting spirals using cool-colored paints. Mark and I worked together, creating an elaborate spiral, and I noted how relaxing it was to paint.
"Kind of like coloring, huh?" Mark said. I nodded--I never realized how calming it is to color with crayons until I got Mark!
The last activity was poetry. The kids all read poems they'd written for their moms, using the letters in their mom's name. Cue the tears, because they were filled with love and sweetness, proclaiming their undying love and gratitude to their moms, each of whom were deemed "the best mom in the whole wide world."
I couldn't wait to hear Mark's, but he was reluctant. He shook his head, whispering he'd read it at home. But I had to go to work, and I wanted to hear it! Finally, slowly, he stood and read it.
It wasn't as sentimental as some, but I loved it anyway. And I loved the toothy grinning sun accompanying it.
That's right, people. I do take it to the hoops! (Whatever that means.) But not sure I'm am as happy to be easy as pie... ;-)
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