The Boy only took a couple of evenings to memorize his short poem for his class’s “Shelebration,” which was a celebration of Shel Silverstein’s poetry for children. (“Did he write anything but poetry for children?” Yes, in fact, he did.) It’s quite short, after all — four lines:
They could be poison ivy,
They might be poison oak,
But anyway, here’s your bouquet!
Hey–can’t you take a joke?
Fortunately, the performance was at the beginning of the school day, else I would not have been able to attend. K, having other obligations, was unable to attend. Thus, the Boy would have been probably the only child there without a parent or grandparent in attendance. Which would have been heartbreaking for him, I know. It would be for anyone.
After the performance, when we (read: E) were partaking in the after-show snacks, he was very clingy, very physically affectionate. I looked around the room and realized quickly that he was being more physically affectionate with me than any other child with his/her parent that I could see. I was touched and a little worried. Was he that glad I was there or was he just a bit clingy, a bit lacking in confidence that I provided by being there?