Thursday, August 11, 2011

So Thoughtful...

I know I've mentioned this before, but my girl, she is something special. Tomorrow is her last day at her old school, and four of her teachers (including her current teacher) and the cook are still at the school. This sweet angel asked if we could get them each a small thank you gift, as well as the director, and we were quick to say yes. She made a list of exactly what she wanted, and we were able to find them all yesterday:


She decided the school cook needed new hot pads, and the director needed more stickers since she often gives them to the kids as they are leaving for the day. Her toddler teacher needed the train because Issa's favorite memory was making a train with her to go out to recess. The other three teachers needed new plants because their classrooms plants all died when they got left outside over a weekend. She had me write on the tags why she chose each gift, and she decorated the tags this morning before any of the rest of us were up. So thoughtful.


It was also hysterical shopping with her. We started with the plants, and the first things Issa spotted were the sorriest looking tomato plants, but they were in a pink pot and so they were perfect. I suggested that perhaps tomato plants were not the best option--especially dying tomato plants in August. Here is the resulting conversation:


"How do you know they are dying, Mom?"


"Generally plants shouldn't be yellowish and wrinkly."


"How do you know they're tomato plants, Mom?"


"Because they look just like the tomato plants in our garden and the tag says tomato."


At this point, Issa puts her little hands on her hips and her nose two inches from the tag: "I can't read the word tomato. How do you spell it?"


(A kindly older gentleman is listening to this exchange and I'm quite convinced he is about to fall on the floor his shoulders are shaking so hard.)


"T-O-M-A-T-O."


"Hey, Mom, this is a tomato plant!"


By this point, Evan can't take it: "Matoes, Sissy!" with a tone that can only be translated as pure frustration.


And then, Issa deliver one of her classics: "Why are we talking about these tomatoes, Mom?"


We did not buy the sorry looking tomato plants.


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