Where have you been? Where are you going? And why?
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” exclaimed Isaiah.
We keep waiting for the day when the principal will award him with the key to the school, a mere token act acknowledging his role as the Godfather there.
His scratched up bike helmet looked as if it had saved his life a number of times- most recently this afternoon, when he came peddling around the corner and skidded to the ground on the pebble driveway. He didn’t cry. Then again, it’s only a two foot fall for a five year-old. I had been watching him from my yard, chasing after his older brother and friends. I noticed his bike seat needed a boost. He followed me through the house to the garage to get a wrench. Still curious about the day in his kindergarten kingdom, I asked again.
“How was your day at school, Zay?”
“What does good mean?” I propped the bike up and began to loosen the seat. I secretly hoped the age-old tactic of an activity might grease up his heart and get the guy talking about his feelings.
“Just good, okay.”
I needed to watch myself. Unlike Marlon Brando, Isaiah doesn’t need any henchmen to get his point across. I focused on the task at hand and realized that I had forgotten “lefty loosey, righty tighty”. I reversed my direction with the wrench. I gripped it tighter and the seat came loose. Isaiah watched closely, though he offered few words. Finally he chimed in some wise advice that, for the life of me, I cannot remember. I only recall my response, “Wow, that’s pretty wise, Zay. Did you learn that in kindergarten?”
“Nope,” replied Mr. Long Winded.
“Did you just learn that in life?”
“Well Zay, you should blog about it.” The backstory here is that Isaiah wrote his first blog this summer. Not bad for a five year-old. Well, he dictated as his sister wrote. My suggestion to record his wisdom with a new blog did not sit well with him. He replied, “I already told you! It’s done! I wrote my blog in July!”
“But Isaiah,” I reasoned, “when you blog, it’s good to write a lot. I try to blog once a week.”
He stared right at me and delivered his parting shot, “I hate to tell you, man, but I blog once a year.”