What Do You Do With A Goofy Sailor?

Our youngest, age 5, has become a little too comfortable in his classroom of late and his teacher brought it to our attention. I asked her to text me with updates. It’s been well over a week since we talked so I thought things were going well. Yesterday morning we received our first text from her.

“#2son has needed constant redirection and has been excessively silly today. Have a great weekend! – Mrs. Wonderful”

I begin to laugh. And then I think, there’s some great blog fodder in here, I know it. But I’m laughing too hard to type.

First, let me say #2son’s teacher truly is wonderful. I love her to death and she is perfect for our son, hence the name Mrs. Wonderful.

But there’s this part of me that wants to say, then deal with him. What can I do about it from home?

Then there’s the part of me that wants to do what my friend suggested and text her back with “Well, then TGIF, right?”

Then there’s another part of me that knows exactly, EXACTLY, what she’s dealing with and I’m with her – what can we do about it?

And still another part of me is still cracking up over the quick little sentence closed with “Have A Great Weekend!”

#2son is the class clown. And adorable. And sweet, imaginative and funny. Needs redirection? All. The. Time. Excessively silly? You betcha. He wants to be an actor. He performs in front of the mirror constantly. He is continually in Imaginary Land. His world is punctuated with sound effects. One day he’s fighting aliens. Or a sailor on the high seas standing on the couch with his spyglass looking for shark. The next day he’s a pirate, or Yoda, or Spiderman (especially funny when I see him trying to adhere to the walls).

 

When he got into the car at carpool I asked him how his day was. “Good,” he replied. That’s not what Mrs. Wonderful said, I told him. “Oh,” he said. Long dramatic pause. Then he said, “Well, it sure was good to ME!”

See what I mean? I started laughing all over again.
Thank goodness my husband is the disciplinarian in our family. Obviously, I’m not cut out for this.