Ben is growing up. Yesterday, when we went to his new classroom to meet his young, perky, tan, blond teacher, he said, "I'm Ben. I'm five now. Isn't it nice to meet me?" Later, he informed me his teacher was sooo cool.
"Why?" I asked.
"She is soooo pretty." Ben has always had an eye for the ladies.
And yes, looking at the picture, I am concerned that those backpack straps are going to cause problems.
We met Caleb's teacher yesterday, too. She is quite visibly knocked up. Probably 5-6 months along.
How dare she. I really wish teachers would take their jobs more seriously and plan their pregnancies accordingly. Like, at times when my kids won't be in their classes. My disappointment is palpable. We're going to have words tomorrow at parents night.
(I've already started crocheting a baby afghan. I love crocheting baby afghans!)
Some pics of the long wait for the bus:
Daniel's magnificent leap across a puddle. It was deeper than it looks.
I think he has a shot with the teacher. I mean, look at him!
Caleb promised to make sure Ben got where he needed to go. I reminded him about twelve times. He didn't roll his eyes until around the tenth time.
Second grader. Needs a haircut.
The boys with their lawyer/ lobbyist father who this morning said, "This bus better not be late. I have a conference call." Well, excuuuuse us Mr. Busy and Important. (I love Mr. Busy and Important.)
Ben's empty arting table where he does his very best arting projects. Oh my heart hurts this morning.
I better toughen it up at the gym. I'm off to get svelte.