Pulling your strings

I got a call on Tuesday from the woman who coordinates volunteers for the Warwick school department.

"We have a meeting on Thursday morning at the library. You signed up in September as a volunteer to do puppet shows at the elementary schools. You got a letter about it this week."

I did?

Uh. Ok. I don't remember signing up, or getting the letter, but what time is the meeting? I'll come and check it out.

When I got to the library, the room was empty, even though I was on time. I brought my coffee and sat down. Eventually the coordinator arrived, along with another woman named Helen, who is a veteran of the program. We chatted a bit. Time ticked by. We were waiting for a couple others, but they never showed up.

So I am, by default, a puppeteer for a program that goes around to the elementary schools teaching kids to be tolerant of folks with disabilities, brush their teeth, stay away from drugs. I don't have to talk... all I do is move the puppet's mouth to match a recorded script. I am probably going to be Mark, a puppet in a wheelchair. Roberto is the blind puppet, but Helen has been doing him for years now and I don't get the impression she wants to change.

My kids claim to be mortified at the thought that I am going to do puppets at their school, but I think they are secretly excited.

Where did this kid come from?

Emmett might be the only kid in the world who is actually disappointed when he has to stay home from school. This morning, as we were about to leave, I felt his head and he definitely had a fever, so instead of walking them, I dropped off Noah and buzzed straight to the pharmacy for some cough medicine and children's chewable tylenol. Emmett was crushed to miss pizza lunch day and his wonderful first grade class.

Emmett takes after Nguyen in terms of coping with discomfort. He almost never complains. It isn't a matter of stoicism. More that he is just too busy with other things to be bothered with a little cough or headache.

Noah is more like me: a complete whinypants. I feel outraged when I am sick. I tell everyone. I mope and pout. I even cry sometimes. That is basically how Noah handles illness too.

I can relate to Noah. I aspire to act like Emmett.