Page 5 of Reformation

A little boy who looks like he could take over the world with just his smile, and his very tired, yet beautiful mother come in the door. I don’t know this woman, but I feel like she needs something—and it has nothing to do with her sadness at dropping off her child on their first day of kindergarten.

A hug. Or wine. Maybe a lot of wine.

“Good morning. You must be Cullen,” I say, kneeling down to his eye level. “I’m Miss Blackstone. I’ll be your teacher this year.”

“Hello.” He flashes me a toothy grin that screams trouble.

I stand back up and extend my hand. “Hi. I’m Miss Blackstone.”

Cullen’s mom returns the gesture and smiles a tired smile. I know that smile. That smile means this kid has been keeping her running for likely his entire five years of life.

“Hi. I’m Charlie Dixon. This is Cullen. I know we’ve just met, and this is going to sound weird, but I already love you. I also know that you will be calling me at a minimum of ten times a month, so just tell me what you drink and I’ll make sure there is a case of it waiting at your doorstep on the same day each month. If you don’t drink, name your poison. I know people all over the world who can get you whatever you want. And I don’t judge. Just say what you want and it’s yours.”

I laugh and ask Cullen to hang up his bookbag and point him to his desk, which he goes to without a fight.

“How did you do that?” she asks.

“Do what?”

“He just… went. He didn’t argue. He didn’t cuss. He just… listened. He has never listened a day in his life without a ten-minute argument and some sort of bribery. And I’m fine if you bribe him. Chocolate usually works the best.”

I put my hand on her shoulder and whisper. “Some say I’m a kid whisperer. It’s my superpower. Now, I got him. Go home. Sleep for the rest of the day. I’ll see you at pick up.”

Before the last word leaves my lips, Charlie has me wrapped in a tight hug. Holy smokes, this woman is strong.

“I prayed for you,” she says in my ear. “I don’t pray. But I prayed for you. Now, when he swears, or tries to stage a rebellion, just let me know. And remember. I know people. Whatever you want…WHATEVER. YOU. WANT. It’s yours.”

I wave off Cullen’s mom and the rest of the parents as I turn to look at seventeen children laughing and talking to each other, their excitement pouring over. I also notice that Cullen has immediately gravitated toward Penelope.

Year six, day one… here I go.

Chapter Four

Paige

“One week down, thirty-five to go!”

I clink my margarita glass with my fellow teachers before we take healthy sips of our chosen cocktails. Normally if I were enjoying an after-work drink, I’d be nursing a glass of wine or maybe a light beer. Or the sangria I enjoyed with Cassie after our first day of school outing just a few days ago.

But after this week? I needed the hard stuff. The only thing that could cure this first-week-of-school headache was José Cuervo.

Lucky for me I didn’t have to beg, or come across as an alcoholic, to go get a drink with our usual teacher crew. It has been our tradition after the first week of school to celebrate with a few drinks. Needing the hard stuff, I suggested the local Mexican restaurant that serves decent tacos and tends to pour their margaritas strong. It also has a great patio, which is perfect for this late August day.

“What is in the water this year? I swear, when parents started holding back gluten from their kids, they must have exchanged it for speed.”

I laugh at Sarah, who teaches third grade. While I know she’s not serious, she does have a point. These kids never seem to quit. And the things that come out of their mouths have me shaking my head daily.

Take today. Never did I ever think I’d have to explain to a five-year-old why it’s inappropriate to twerk at recess.

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” says Patrick, a second-grade teacher who started the same year I did. “Did you ever think your bad attitude is the reason they are being little shits?”

“That is absolutely not the case,” Sarah says, before pointing her drink toward me. “I mean, look at Paige. She is the queen of positivity and hell, and I’m pretty sure animals talk to her. She was the freaking county teacher of the year last year, and I’ve never heard her say one single curse word. Yet, I do believe she was the one requesting tequila today.”

I don’t argue, even with the veiled Disney crack, because I don’t have a leg to stand on. I know each year is different and presents its own set of challenges, but I can already tell this year is going to test me in ways I didn’t think imaginable.

Along with trying to mold my students into being good people, teach them their alphabet and colors, while also passing on good habits, I have to explain why they can’t twerk in front of others.

Though this year has been a little easier because I had a perfect score when it came to “Guess the Kid.” Nicky Thomas is, without a doubt, the class clown. In the first week, he managed to sneak in a whoopie cushion (I didn’t even know they made those anymore), and he’s good for one borderline inappropriate joke a day. They’d be funny if I wasn’t his teacher.

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