Braving Boys

Apple of My Eye

Danny marched down his elementary school hallway today at pick-up time wearing the coveted Apple of My Eye crown. It’s a good day.

Apple of My Eye is what select first-grade kids earn on Fridays for a week of stellar behavior. Danny has been working really hard to score the honor — well, when he wasn’t talking during tests, pinching kids and being silly.

My man’s efforts paid off on this fine February 11 (“I’m working on being Apple today,” he announced on the way to school this morning), and along with his construction-paper hat, he brought home a hand written note from his teacher:

You have been trying very hard. This week was much improved. Good job helping and doing what you need to do. You are a great friend to others as well!

He is very proud. We are, too. That’s why we’re taking him to the restaurant of his choice (Sonny’s), right after he finishes up his Apple homework — he has a journal entry to write, an illustration to make and a questionnaire to complete (he’s already revealed Mac and Cheese as his fave food, and he wrote that he wants to be a NASCAR racer when he grows up).

Danny will also take in some photos and a special show-and-tell item on Tuesday when he goes back to school, because next week he will reign as top Apple. Then on Friday, someone else will march down the hallway after school all happy and beaming, just like Danny did.

Photo: D Sharon Pruitt, Flickr

John’s dad didn’t know our boys, because he died before they were born (he didn’t get to meet any of his grandkids — there are 8), and today marks the very day he passed away. February 9, a Tuesday, 11 years ago. He was 51.

Joey and Danny may have never met their Grandpa Donaldson, but that doesn’t mean they don’t know him. Thanks to stories and photographs, they’ve got what they think are memories of the guy who loved the TV show “The Hulk,” always worked several jobs to support his family of five and custom-made for their daddy a skateboard with wheels that went round and round and never did work very well.

They know their grandpa was a really tall man (maybe that’s why Joey is almost 5 feet tall in the third grade). They know he taught his own three boys that no job is worth doing if it isn’t done right. And they know, most of all, that their dad loves his dad with every inch of his heart.

When Joey was just a wee little one — actually, he was never “wee,” but when he was younger, he told John that the clouds are his dad’s eyes, and he is watching him all the time. Maybe he’s right. And if he is, well, then, perhaps he does know our boys. And wouldn’t that be nice?

Photo: AMagill, Flickr

My boys are fascinated with money. Just yesterday, one of them asked me if lawyers make a lot, they both love to dream about what they’ll do when we win the lottery, and I’m pretty sure 9-year-old Joey is purposely pulling out teeth to pad his bank account. So when the two of them realized that cash prizes go to the folks who finish first in the 1/2 marathon I’ll be running on February 14, they issued me an assignment: “Mom, you’ve got to win!”

“I just want to finish, not win,” I responded.

“Please, please, please, try to win,” Joey and Danny chanted in tandem.

Here’s the deal: If I finish first in my female age group (35-39), I’ll score $250. Second place gets $150, and third place gets $100. Do I think I can do it? In a word: No. My 10-minute mile just isn’t that competitive, I don’t think. Will I tell my guys this? Nope. I plan to arm them with the fact that I’ll try my very best, that I’ll run like I want to win. I’m sure they’ll see visions of wealth when I tell them this, but what I hope registers in their little-boy brains is that dedication and some good hard work are what really matters.

Money, yea, that would be nice, too.