The Kindergarten classroom is a whirl of activity and, frankly, I welcome it. We’ve all been cooped up in Victor’s house for a week, keeping the boys home from school, but finally the media outlets have relented, turning their attention to more interesting subjects. Or, at least subjects who were willing to leave the house.
Victor wanted us to stay in for another week, but the boys cried and begged to be let back to school for the Thanksgiving pageant. I was right here with them.
“Are you ready, little turkey?” I ask Ian, pasting the final feathers onto the upside-down paper bag that is wearing over his shirt, his head and arms sticking out of holes roughly cut in the sides. His face is painted with a wide yellow beak over his nose. It’s adorable.
“Ready, mama!” he says, putting his han
