Five minutes out my door and I run into one mom and two boys.
The older one is in my class. The younger one is a regular visitor.
Mom can catch a closer bus and two boys can carry on with me.
“We are eating waffles on the go.”
“She can see that.”
“Look! We have special boots because it snowed.”
“We walk this way even when we aren’t with you.”
Natter. Natter. Natter.
The park is splotchy..
White snow stacks. Green grass. Mud piles. Slippy concrete and half frozen puddles.
The same number of dogs as usual race in circles.
“Did you already eat breakfast?”
“I know! You had coffee.” A nod to the little brother, “She drinks a lot of coffee.”
“Hey Ms. Gelson! I thought it was you. But I didn’t want to yell because what if it wasn’t? Then I’d be yelling at a stranger.”
“It sure is sunny today. It’s a good day. For a Monday.”
Now I have 3 boys walking with me to school.
A woman with a sidewalk dog gives us the once over. These boys are obviously not my children. Clearly not all related. We all march along. A procession. In boots. With backpacks. Talking loudly. Clearly connected. But how?
We share the brief news of our mornings. My attempts to wake up my children. The brothers’ morning routine with their mom. The specific houses the newest member of our group passed where he knows the occupants.
“I didn’t knock on his door because I think he’s still sleeping.”
“I think this is her Mom weekend not Dad time so she’s not there.”
At the school doors we separate.
The kids I collected along the way head in different directions.
I head upstairs to my classroom door.
My morning walk is fifteen minutes.
This was a good one.
For a Monday.
I am participating in the Slice of Life challenge to write and publish a post every day in March.
Slice of Life is hosted by Two Writing Teachers. I thank them for the community they provide. Read more slices here.