Natalie is one tired pup after school on Fridays. She stays there an hour later than other days to take one extra class called "Brushes and Books." The teachers read a book and then the little ones work on a related art project. Last week, they read Never Too Little Too Love by Jeanne Willis, and Natalie brought home this little creation:
And almost every Friday, worn-out Natalie reacts with horror when she realizes that we are driving straight from her school to Connor's to fetch him instead of going home in between fetchings.
"I don't want to pick up Connor!" she cries.
"Natalie, he's our family. We love him," I remind her, shaking my head at the fact that I have to remind her. "How would you feel if one day I decided, 'You know, I'm really very comfy here at home. I don't think I want to venture out to pick up Natalie'?"
"Bad!" she spats.
"OK, well, how would Connor feel if we didn't pick him up?"
"Bad!" she spats some more.
"Yeah, he would," I agree. "Think about the book How Full Is Your Bucket. Doesn't it fill your bucket when you see me at the end of your school day?"
"Yes?" She is suspicious of where I'm going with this conversation.
"Well, it fills Connors bucket, too, when we pick him up from school."
"Well, it doesn't fill my heart."
Ouch. Mean. Them's fighting words, sister.
"OK, well, that's terribly sad. It fills my bucket and my heart to see both of my children at the end of the day."
"Well, I don't want to see Connor." She's crossing her arms now, indignant.
"OK, then, close your eyes."