Friday: Ben comes home from school glum. He lies down on his bed, listens to music, and cries for an hour. All I can get out of him is that he "said something to some girls and now I regret it."
Monday: My neighbor comes over and says, "So I heard Ben told Helen he loves her." "What?!" Apparently Helen's mom called my neighbor to ask if she knew who Ben was. Helen told her mom that on Friday Ben had told Helen, in front of the whole first grade, that he loved her.
In the car on Monday afternoon I asked Ben if he liked Helen. He turned BEET red, got a starry look in his eyes and said, "Boys don't like girls." Hmmm.
Tuesday: I am now on a first-name basis with the school nurse. She leaves me a message, "Katya, it's Molly. Ben fell really hard and hit his head. Do you want me to send him home on the bus or do you want to pick him up?"
What happened? Helen and her friends were chasing Ben around. He was scared they were going to drag him off somewhere. He was running hard. He tripped and fell on the cement. He had a bruise on his forehead that was so swollen it looked like a cartoon bump.
Thursday: Ms. M (Ben's teacher) talks to me in the hall. She overheard Ben telling the other boys in his class, "But I love her. I really REALLY love her." Apparently he said it with such drama that he fell on his knees while saying it.
Friday: Helen's class has a class picture posted in the hall. I look at it. She is tall and beautiful, with blond, curly hair. :-) Our own Helen of Atlanta.