We’ve had a few weeks of winter to work things out and both girls now have snow pants at school and we’re still working on leaving a pair of shoes at school.  But decisions on gloves/mittens, hats, etc., choices have mostly been made.  Because it’s been cold and wet enough to wear boots to school, the girls have done that.  But, by the afternoons, it’s been warm enough for them to want to wear their “leave-at-school-shoes” home and carry their boots.  I don’t tell them to change and bring the shoes back to their lockers because I like to give them a choice in what they wear whether I think it’s right or wrong and because there is usually something that they have forgotten to bring with them that is more important to retrieve, and there is only so much time in an afternoon. 

On a daily basis, one of the girls realizes that they’ve forgotten something in their locker; gloves/mittens, water bottles, artwork, etc.  So, while one, or sometimes both girls run back to their locker I wait outside the school and watch all the other kids walk away with their parents.  On Monday, Dee Dee came out of school carrying her boots and her coat and backpack.  As she stood on the sidewalk putting on her coat Audio spotted a boy that she’d gone to preschool with and ran across the schoolyard to say hello to him.  As Dee Dee finished zipping up her coat, I realized that Audio was walking with the boy, his sister, and their mother away from the school.  I assumed that the mother would send Audio back in my direction, but she was deep in conversation with another parent. 

I told Dee Dee to stay where she was and started to follow Audio, who was standing at the corner, waiting for the flag children to allow a group of parents and students to cross the street.  I’d only taken a few steps in Audio’s direction when Dee Dee said, “I left my gloves inside.”  I told Dee Dee that I heard her and said that I’d be right back with Audio.  At that point, Audio turned around, saw me, and ran in my direction.  When she got back to me, I picked up Dee Dee’s backpack and boots and asked her if she knew where her gloves were.  She told me that they were in her locker, “right in the front.”  So, the three of us made our way back to the door, where the staff person with the walkie talkie gave us the same look she always does with one of the girls has to fetch something they’ve forgotten. 

Dee Dee’s classroom is at the other end of the school from the door, but somehow “right in the front” made me think that it wouldn’t take that long for her to get her gloves and return.  It’s a lot more common for Dee Dee to say that she doesn’t have her gloves (or her sweatshirt, or her hat) and that she has no idea where they are.  So, knowing where here gloves were seemed like a great leap forward. Audio and I stood waiting for Dee Dee while the last of the parents arrived to collect their kids, the parents who always smell like marijuana.  When Dee Dee finally appeared, at least five minutes later, Audio announced that she forgot her water bottle in the classroom.   

Audio started towards the door to go back inside to get her water bottle.  I stopped her and told her that it would be all right to leave the water bottle in her classroom and pointed out that it would be there for her when she returned to school the next day.  Audio raised her voice and said that she wanted to go back in for her water bottle.  I wasn’t sure if she really wanted the water bottle or if she just wanted to go back inside because Dee Dee got to go back inside.  I pleaded with Audio to leave the bottle where it was.  I told her that if she wanted, I’d just washed a different water bottle earlier and she could bring that one back in the morning.  I asked her if she still had water in the bottle in the classroom and she said that she did.  I told her that she could bring a different bottle in the morning, or she could just use the one that she’d left in the room, but it was too late for her to go back in to get her water bottle. 

Audio didn’t like those choices.  The discussion wasn’t going well and I was about to suggest that Dee Dee accompany Audio to go get the water bottle, and do it quickly, when both of Audio’s teachers happened to appear at the door, and we worked together to convince her that she could leave her water bottle at school and use it the next day.  Outnumbered, Audio gave up. Then, finally, the three of us started walking home.  We got about halfway there before I realized that I was still carrying Dee Dee’s backpack and boots, which I encouraged her to carry, herself. 

On Tuesday morning, we woke up to a bit of snow.  There was maybe an inch on the ground and still falling.  That’s not enough snow to require much of an adjustment to our morning, other than leaving a few minutes earlier than usual, just in case something happens.  While helping the girls get ready to head out the door, I picked up Audio’s backpack.  It felt very light, and I was curious as to whether or not there was anything in it at all.  But, before I got the bag unzipped, I heard Dee Dee crying over not wanting to wear her polka dotted balaclava or her recently acquired black coat.  She had misunderstood me when I told her that I didn’t think that she would need the hat, since her coat has a hood on it.  And the black coat has thumbhole sleeves built into the coat’s sleeves which make it difficult for her to get her gloves on.  I set down Audio’s backpack, got Dee Dee’s blue coat (which has the same sort of built-in thumbhole sleeves, but apparently don’t get in the way of her gloves) and while she was putting it on, I carried Audio’s backpack and into the kitchen where Audio was wearing her boots on the wrong feet.   

After Dee Dee and I gave Audio proof that her boots were on backwards by pointing out the shape and where the Velcro catch was, Audio swapped her boots around.  Then, after both girls were ready, we headed out the back door.  The walk to school was easy and we got there plenty early.  Along the way, we encountered the flag children who likes to keep left.  He was pushing his flagpole through the snow in front of him as he walked right at us.  I gave a couple calls of, “Keep Right!” to my girls, hoping that the flag children would hear, but he didn’t.  When he was a couple steps away from hitting Dee Dee with his flagpole, I announced loudly, “It’s best if we all keep to the right!”  The flag children finally looked up, saw us, and moved over.  Dee Dee asked why the flag children doesn’t know that it’s common for people walking or driving to keep to the right.  I explained that unlike her parents, some parents aren’t concerned about raising their children to be good adults. 

As we finished our walk to school, I told Dee Dee that I had figured out that the left-leaning flag children is the brother of the boy who had been in our group when I chaperoned her fieldtrip, back in October.  I’ve seen the dad around the neighborhood a lot, walking the dog alone or with the whole family.  And I’ve tried engaging him in conversation a couple times and learned that he either doesn’t like me, doesn’t like my jokes, or perhaps he traded in his sense of humor for his beard.  If the latter is the case, I think he’s really missing out because I think his beard is a pretty good joke that everyone should have the opportunity to enjoy, even a guy who isn’t interested in raising his children to be good adults.  

When we got to the school, we had ten minutes before the bell rang.  So, Audio and I went with Dee Dee to the front door to wait with her.  One of the girls from Audio’s class was near the door and saw Audio and called her name, so we all walked to where she was sitting.  Dee Dee had decided that she not only didn’t want to wear her balaclava, but she chose to walk to school with her hood pulled back off of her head so she could enjoy the snow.  As a result, she had a white helmet of snow covering her hair.  I brushed her hair off and pulled her hood over her head.  Then, I saw that Audio’s scarf had been hanging forward from her face and collecting snow, so I pulled it out, cleared the snow out and then tucked it back into her hood.  Not wanting to be left out, the girl from Audio’s class asked if I could help her pull her hood up over her head.  I gently brushed the snow off of her hat and pulled her hood over her head.  There were a few tense moments when I realized that the pompom on top of her hat was caked with solid ice, and I had to crush the ice and push the pompom down before I could get her hood into place. 

The bell rang and pompom girl disappeared.  Dee Dee said goodbye to Audio and me and headed into the school.  I noticed a parent who has one child in Audio’s class and one in Dee Dee’s class.  Her boys were both wearing masks.  We usually greet each other when we meet during drop off and pickup times.  But, I hadn’t talked with her in a while.  It turns out that both of her sons have been sick just as long as my girls have: since the start of the school year.  A teacher came outside to see if any buses had arrived.  Audio’s teacher wasn’t outside yet, so the teacher who was there suggested that the kids go inside the building and stand next to the heat register.  Audio marched in without acknowledging me.  So, I stuck my head inside the door, got her attention, and said goodbye to her. 

When I got home, I saw that Audio has gym class on Tuesdays and thought back to her light backpack.  I never took a look inside the backpack and started to think that Audio didn’t have any shoes with her.  In the morning, she changes out of her boots and into shoes to go to the cafeteria for breakfast, but then she changes back into her boots to go outside for recess.  I wasn’t sure about the times, but I figured that I could get a pair of shoes to her before she came back into the school from recess.  I texted my wife and said that Audio’s backpack felt very light I didn’t think that she had shoes.  Then, I sent a message to Audio’s teachers that I didn’t think that Audio had shoes because her backpack had felt light and that I would bring a pair to the school.   

I sorted out the girls’ shoes and found five pairs that I knew, thought, or assumed were Audio’s shoes.  Five pairs of shoes for a four-year-old is pretty excessive.  I picked a pair that I thought would be appropriate and put them in a plastic bag.  As I was putting my shoes on, I received a text back from my wife, telling me that she put shoes in Audio’s bag.  I quickly took a photo of all five pairs of shoes that I’d gathered up and sent it to her asking if she was sure she sent a pair or if it was one of the pairs that were in the photo that she thought she had sent.  I waited fifteen minutes for a reply from my wife or from Audio’s teachers.  When I didn’t get any response, I decided to just bring the shoes to the school.   

The snow was still coming down and the wind was whipping it around as I made my way back to the school.  I hit the button to request to enter the school, stepped back, and held up the clear, plastic bag that held Audio’s shoes.  After I was buzzed in, I went to the main office and was greeted with, “Sneakers?”  I handed them over to the secretary.  On one side of her stood the principal who looked at me briefly and then walked away.  On the other side of the secretary was the staff member who holds the walkie talkie at the end of the day and let kids know whose parents are there, the one who knows that Dee Dee and Audio forget something every day.  I said, “I suppose you’re figuring out who my girls inherited their forgetfulness from.”  Then, I exited the school and walked home. 

Once I was home and had taken off my outdoor outfit, I got a message from Audio’s teacher telling me that Audio did, in fact, have a pair of shoes in her backpack.  I asked if I should collect the shoes from the office when I return to collect the girls.  She said that she would send them home in Audio’s backpack.  As soon as I set my phone down, my wife replied to my question and photo of Audio’s shoes with a stock photo of the shoes that were in Audio’s backpack.  This pair was pretty much indistinguishable from the shoes that I’d brought to the school, and remarkably similar to a couple other pairs that I’d picked that pair from.  As I was wondering why Audio needs so many pairs of the same type of shoe, I got two messages at just about the same moment.  One message was from my wife and the other was from Audio’s teacher.  They both read, “The backpack probably felt light because you told her to leave her water bottle at school yesterday.”