The high school where Bugs goes had an event today whereby rising 9th graders are invited to spend a couple of hours there in the morning getting the lay of the land, and generally be welcomed by some of the staff, after which they finish up with lunch.
Bugs asked me this morning, “I’m not going to see them, am I?” (As opposed to, “Do I get to see them?”).
“No,” I responded with great exasperation, wishing for a little more brotherly love and concern.
“Oh, good,” he says as he finishes making his breakfast.
He leaves for the bus, and I get the other two up and going. I explain to them where they are supposed to go, and what they are supposed to do. I had the impression that I wasn’t supposed to walk them in, and said as much. They were quiet until we hit the parking lot.
“Now where are we supposed to go?” Roo asks. I explain for the third time.
“We can handle this,” Buzzard says. “We don’t need mom.” I smile at this.
Roo, who isn’t sure at all, gets out of the car at the pace of a 90 year old. They start to walk away when I realize they have no lunch money. I roll down the window and call them back. Buzzard practically sprints back to the car.
I hand them some money, and get this feeling in my gut so I say, “Do you want me to park, and walk in with you?”
They both say, “Yes!”
So I park and walk in, showing them to the guidance office, which is where the kids are all meeting.
“Have fun!” I say. They don’t acknowledge me.
Fast forward two hours later.
Roo says, “I didn’t think it was a big deal, but that place is big.” They both proceeded to tell me about the kids they saw that they already knew, and how they were glad they went, because they didn’t think it would be as confusing to get around as it was.
“How was lunch? Did you eat?” I ask.
“Pizza,” they both said. Figures. I decide that I should think about preventing a lunch of pizza every day. I already have this issue with Bugs, and it doesn’t make me happy. Of course there are other choices, but when I ask about them from Bugs, he tells me the only choices are a burger and pizza. Uh huh. I knew this wasn’t entirely true, but now’s my chance to find out more detail.
“So, what else did they have?”
“Pizza, burgers…oh, and a sandwhich bar. But only the adults go in that line,” says Roo while making a face. I suspect this isn’t entirely true either, but I don’t say anything.
“And I saw Bugs,” says Roo. “But only this much of the back of his head.” He holds up both hands to demonstrate a circle the size of a grapefruit. “And some kid came up to us and asked us if we were Bugs’ brothers. I knew we were in trouble then.”
“Really? Who was it, and why were you in trouble?” I ask.
“I don’t know. And that’s why I knew we were in trouble.” Roo says as though this should have been perfectly obvious.
“Oh,” I say. Clearly, I do not understand High School Politics.