Movin’ up
On Monday, the six kids from the village who are entering Junior High next year left their two-room schoolhouse to spend the day at their future new school – a rather large establishment in the next town.
Among them was the little red-haired kid who’d been talking about this event non-stop – with an equal mix of excitement and fear – for the past three months.
On Sunday night, his big sister (already a two-year veteran of the joint) chose his wardrobe and lent him a backpack that she promised would make him look like “less of a gimp.”
(This is the same redoubtable girl who, when the red-haired kid was very little, would remind him continually that she’d asked for a sister, not a brother, so if he wanted to play with her, he’d have to put on a dress and call himself Elizabeth. So he did.)
By the time she’d finished giving him the rundown of the acceptable behaviour of a cool kid – in other words, what to do to avoid causing her acute embarrassment for being related to him – what remained of his excitement had pretty much evaporated and, once she’d left the room, he stood staring out the window for a while. Later, he came to me and said, ‘hey, mom, do you think it’ll be okay if I breathe?’
Despite all her daunting talk, I know for certain that if push came to shove, his sister would take on half the schoolyard to defend him.
(And win.)
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Comment
- How completely charming. Thanks for sharing this Gail.
— SF Jun 19, 12:17am # - Ahh, junior high. What fond memories of being completely scared of any social interaction. Those were the days.
— Blake Jun 19, 10:03pm # - I know another brother and sister who went through exactly the same ritual last year. Fortunately, they weren’t mine.
— Anji Jun 20, 10:00am # - Thank you for reminding me of my middle school years, which were frought with the peril of inept social interaction yet in retrospect seem amazingly simple…
— leslie Jun 22, 4:25am #
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