Oinks and Giggles

I have been picking up a friend's son after school. She is an old friend that just moved back home after the loss of her middle child and a rough divorce. He was 4 1/2 and chronically ill. She is struggling to get on her feet here with a three year old and a seven year old all while grieving. She is a strong and amazing person.

Her seven year old that I pick up is struggling the most. He is angry and withdrawn. Most days I pick up a whole horde of children; 4 not including my 2. The seven year old sits silent and solemn while the others excitedly chatter about their respective days.

The other day my hubs was at home, the other kiddos had choir and dance and I found myself on my way to pick him up alone. I knew the moment we met in the drive through could go either way-either very well or very wrong. But alas, I had the upper hand because without any additional passengers, he was guaranteed to the coveted front seat position. Not only that, but I had taken the pickup to get him, his favorite.

I wait, listening to the radio, loving the few moments alone. The bell rings and he comes skipping out-a good sign. Our eyes meet and he flashes me a toothless smile. Fate is on my side! Squeezing through the crowd of children he finally reaches the truck, propelling the door open. "Oh, sweet, I get the front seat and in the TRUCK!" We maneuver out of the school zone and I ask him what color he got. (This is the part that is hard-he hasn't been doing well with behavior in class) He grins. "A yellow!" For those who might not know-yellow is under green but before red. It means less than satisfactory-a warning. Usually this means he is upset. But the wide grin throws me off.

"What was the crime?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh, don't worry, it wasn't my fault today." he replies, while digging through his backpack.
"Oh?" I ask, wondering what possibly had happened.
"I got a yellow for making pig noises in the hallway. But our rule chart in the class definitely doesn't say you can't make pig noises. I checked. It says, "Be Quiet in the hallway." And I was making the pig noises quietly, so it can't be my fault." Still relaxed and happy, he pulls out his folder. Sure enough it is marked, "Making pig noises in the hallway" with a yellow dot.
Suddenly, involuntarily, a snort of laughter escapes. I can't help it! I look at him and he giggles. I lose it and we are both giggling the rest of the drive home.

When we get home he goes off to play by himself as usual. Jason asks how his day was and he mumbles, "Fine." But I know better. I know there are pig noises and laughter and joy hiding deep inside that little boy just waiting to emerge. Maybe they will only reveal themselves a little at a time. But I know they are there. And for today, that is enough to be thankful for.