Many of you already know I pick up my grandchildren from school two days per week. I look forward to seeing them, and am always ready for what might come out of their mouths on the way home from school.
Today was a gem.
Rachel is 4 ("not 4 1/2" per brother)
Brenden IS officially 6 1/2.
We have our pleasantries first. "How was school? What did you do? How was lunch? Here's your snack."
We are several blocks away from school. Rach has completed her peanut butter snack bar with the always predictable explanation "I can't have peanut butter in class 'cause someone is llergic. I love peanut butter."
"I know Rach. That is why I bring them for you to have after school."
"Well, I CAN. No one is ALlergic in my class (B is always correcting his sister's pronunciation). But today I had to eat half of my sandwich outside."
"Why is that, B?" Hmmmm I wondered.
"Dunno." End of conversation. I decide to let it drop.
Quiet for a few blocks.
Rachel begins rustling around in her book bag pulling out something I can't see.
Not really whispering, but quietly she says to her brother, "I sneeked this into school today."
I immediately scan the rear view to no avail.
"What?" B has that no nonsense sound to his voice.
"This." I still can't see what she is talking about "A ball. I sneeked it in my bag. The teacho didn't see it. Yesterday, a boy in my class brought a ball like this to school. He had it in his pocket. He brought it out on the playground and the teacho didn't see it." he he he he "So today, I brought this and the teacho didn't see it either."
Outraged, B announces loud and firm, "I am a police. I am a school police!"
"So?" Rachel shrugs.
"No really, I am a police. Who brought the ball to school yesterday? Was it (name inaudible)?"
"Was it (again name inaudible)?"
"Who was it then? I am a school police!" B's voice is getting louder, and I can only imagine him holding a spotlight shining right in her eyes old school style. I start to giggle uncontrollably. I am desperate not to let them see me. I feign looking out my left window while sneaking a peek in my rear view mirror at the two sitting in their booster seats behind me. I have my right hand firmly planted over my mouth.
"I am pre-school." Rachel announces triumphantly.
I give a snort.
B moves in for the kill. "I am NOT pre-school. I am school police."
"I know. I am PRE-school." Rachel has a little smile, kinda Mona Lisa like.
"Give me that ball." B tries to snatch it out of Rachel's hand.
Rach is sneering at her brother, and holding the ball just out of his reach.
I can't hold it any longer. Streams of tears are running down my face. I can no longer control the spasms of laughter escaping my mouth.
B is not amused. "You need to stop, grandma."
"I am trying, B, I am trying." I managed to tell him through the gales of guffaws.
What makes this hysterical is that Brenden lords it over on his sister that he is the eldest at every opportunity he gets. This is one of the first times I have witnessed Rachel getting one over on her brother.
My rational mind wonders about whether Rachel will be a follower, doing other nefarious deeds as she makes her way through school. But I can't be bothered with that right now.
All I can say is,
"Let's hear it for the FOUR year old!" ....he he he