It was teacher conference time and I walked into the classroom for the lowdown on my sixth grader. I always expect to hear tales of drama and angst concerning my tween girl and Mrs. K. was ready with one of her favorites:
E came running in one day, pony purse in hand. (Yes, she carries a purse with a little pony in it. Doesn’t everyone?) Throwing her arms in the air, she cried “Mrs. K., Mrs. K., I’ve washed my hands, can I hold the gecko?!” (I was thrilled that someone or something could get her to wash her hands so things were looking up.) E continued to talk about how she begged her mother for a gecko if the eggs hatched and how her mother said no and (now envision the index finger moving up and down in your face) “Not another living thing is coming into this house unless it’s a man for me.”
I waited for the teacher to stop laughing and wipe away her tears. Then I told her that yes, it’s a true story, and she could probably guess how my daughter came by her flair for drama.