A call from school today

I get a call from school today.  Everytime this happens, and its only happened a few times now, I get the nastiest chill and sinking stomach.  The woman's voice says she is calling from the clinic about Heath, he is not sick and he is not hurt.  They say this first for a reason… whew.

We dont know why sir, but Heath has two rather large tears in the back of his pants.  "Okay", I say", annoyed, I admit.  "Is he okay?" I wonder if he is upset, embarrassed, etc.  "Yes, he is fine, but we need someone to bring him some pants."  "Can I talk to him?"  "Yes, you can", almost like she is saying 'please do'.  I hear a little giggling, so evidently he is giving them a show of some sort.

"Heath, are you okay?"  

"Hi,  Dad.  I cant hear him."

"Hold the phone like this", she says.   He has probably never held a phone like that.

"Heath, how did you rip your pants?"

"Whujujusay?"  (I love how he enunciates 'what did you say' and we dread the day when he cleans this toddlerism up)

I repeat.

"I dont know."

"Are the rips really big?"

"I dont know Dad.  I cant see them!"

So, I curb my questions about how it might have happened, where it might have happened, and whether he has on underwear.  I do remember seeing him in some this morning.

"You sit tight and I will be right there"

"Okay, bye Daddy."

He waits in the clinic, a friend brings him his lunch.  His timing is really impeccable.  Frankly I would much rather do the hero driving mission to buy two pair of pants at Target on the way to his school, than attend the annual cluster of a holiday potluck at work, which was JUST beginning.  (I get back in time to give a small presentation to our entire staff, my boss and boss' boss.)

I get there, two new pairs of pants.  He is excited to see me.  I was really picturing a class of laughing kindergartners, pointing at his bottom which he couldnt see… and him being emotionally shaken…. no.  not nearly.  It is amazing the things that bother them and the things that don't, regardless of how much we think we know their sensitivities.  He couldnt give a damn, liked the unusual events and loved that I was coming to school.  The women told me he was obviously just fine, smiling.  So, I couldn't talk at all about the pants before getting a tour of the snow globes picture he drew in art class.  

Once past that I asked him again if he was okay, he was fine, clearly and I though it fine to go ahead flat out ask, "Were you a little embarrassed?"  "Daddeeee!  Noooo-wuuhhh!!"  He said this looking at the three ladies in the room and making the 'OMG-I-cant-believe-you-just-said-that' face.  Apparently my asking IF he was embarrassed was itself embarrassing.

Okay, but he did want to change in the bathroom, so we go in, I help him change his pants.  He is amazed that I produce two new pairs of pants from under my jacket (didn't steal them, I needed my hands), having just talked to him on the phone a few minutes ago.  He likes them, puts them on, I tighten the little elastic stuff in the waist and then he squats down and says, "Thats all I did.  In art class, I just got down on my knees and felt something break behind me."  "Yes, those pants were so thin.  We didnt know.  They just ripped", I said.  Then he said something like, "Daddy, I really like these pants!"  But I know all day I am going to be feeling back here like this, thinking that I am going to feel holes… but I think I'm not going to feel them.

I wish I could write all this the way it sounded; a precious riot.  Though a little "embarrassed" in the hall for me to take a picture, he did suggest, with kids walking all around, that he should make a sad face and not a happy one, because that would be funny.  I agreed.

I walked him to the cafeteria where his class was, as well as others, and he was in no way embarrassed to grab me down and hug and kiss me on the lips before I left.  What an unforgettable Monday, for me at least.  Why do they have to grow up?