Last year a new student was placed in Number 4’s class after the school year had already started.
She had a new BFF.
His name was George.
We heard all about her friend George.
About how Number 4 helped him with the transition to the new school.
How she showed him where the bathroom and the cafeteria and the nurse’s office was.
About how she helped him with his schoolwork.
About how they read together.
About how they played together at recess.
At the December report card conference, Mrs. O told us how Number 4 was so great with him.
Number 4 loved George.
In May, at the Memorial Day Parade in town, there is a booth that sells strawberry shortcake.
Number 4 got hers and spotted George sitting on a hill, eating his.
“MOMMY! IT’S GEORGE!”
She ran over, sat down next to him, and they ate their strawberry shortcake together until it was time to go.
I finally knew who George was.
Unfortunately, Number 4 and George are in different classes this year.
As it goes, they kind of drifted apart, although Number 4 has told me that when they see each other in the hallway, George always says hello.
Mommy, George is the only boy from my class last year who still says hi to me.
On a different note, my dad and I just finished these cute, little benches last week.
A woman who used to live in town saw that I had posted them on Facebook.
She bought them, but she had moved out of state, so she sent her sister who still lives in town to pick them up.
Her sister came today, and we got to talking.
She told me she knew who I was.
She read the blog.
I had a laugh, and before too long, I realized that Number 4 and her son were in the same grade.
Then we realized they were actually in the same class last year.
We said goodbye, and she left.
A little while later, I got a Facebook message.
You said your daughter is [Number 4]?
It did not click with me right away, but last year in Mrs. O’s class, George was in love with Number 4.
Really. Not making this up.
A couple of the teachers told me this.
And when we asked George about it, he said, very matter of factly,
“I really, really like Number 4…
Because she tells me what to do. ”
If things don’t work out for George and Number 4 in the end,
at least she will have prepared him for marriage.
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