We are so Proud. Monday, Colin received his Major Award
in an assembly in front of the whole school.
Yes, our own 6 year-old son is the proud recipient of the first (and only) annual award for the collecting of pop-up bug books. Thank you. Thank you. We are overwhelmed and would like to thank the academy and all the little people, including Mr Carter for the writing of these books, without whom this award would have been considerably more difficult to achieve.
It was really pretty great being greeted at the door by a glowing boy with his hands held behind his back so we could play "guess which hand" as he displayed a slightly torn (due to much handling) certificate suitable for framing and a new red pencil (unsharpened) complete with school logo. Much ooohing and hugging ensued. We then gently taped the tears in the paper and proudly hung the certificate over his bed, above the collection of said bug books.
All joking aside, it was great to see him so proud. Once again, we are thankful for his consistently wonderful teacher, Mrs B. Now, we know that each month in turn, two kids from his class get an award at the school assembly, but for her to take the time to come up with this particular award, is just really cool.
You see, he is so very proud of his bug books. He reads them constantly. He has amassed about 6 of them, including Hanukkah Bugs
and the new one, Easter Bugs
. If you come over to our house, he will corner you at the earliest possible opportunity, usually at the kitchen table where there is plenty of room to spread them all out and read them to you in super-slow-mo so you miss not a single nuance of these beloved books. (If you do come over, consider this your formal warning.)
Personally, I am thankful for two things. First of all, I am delighted he loves books. Secondly, I am happy that if he had to love bug books that they are of the goofy made-up sort of bugs not the enlarged, true-to-life photos of bugs. You see, I have a rather severe bug phobia. I hate the creepy, crawly, flying, crunchy creatures. I know they serve all sorts of necessary functions but they just wig me out. I also can't kill them, so I have to do the capture and release thing when they make their way into my house in the country. The buggy country.
I also suspect that as soon as I release them to the outside, they immediately use every opportunity to regain entrance to my house in a sick game of "freak out the harmless giant". When I was younger and living at home, I used to pay my sister, Gail, the stout of heart, a quarter to remove bugs if there were no grown-up around to do it for free. Now I must deal with them myself if Charles isn't there. I have also resorted to sucking up large numbers of them with the vacuum, but now that we have the new bagless vacuum cleaner
, I am not sure if I can face them all crawling around in concentrated fashion in the see-through receptacle. I mean, don't you think they will compare notes and spawn some sort of bug coup?
Maybe I can pay Colin a quarter a bug this summer. On second thought, perhaps I'd better make it a nickel a bug. Given the amount of bugs in our back room, he should have enough money for his college tuition by August.
Labels: The Small-Handed Ones