Breakfast Blues

~ Welcome to Stories of Heart! ~

Pass on the love! If you are not a subscriber and this has been passed on to you, join us by sending a blank e-mail to [email protected] with "subscribe" in the subject line. And get the love direct!

Tour our website: http://www.geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001

________________________________________________________

Before we get to today's story, I would like to take this opportunity to welcome all new members who have joined the Oliver family in passing on the love!

Happy birthday to my son, Ethan, who turns 6 today. I quote him following the story. Happy birthday, sweet boy!

Happy birthday to my niece, Robbi, who loves rubbing it in, reminding me how fast the years zip by. Hope you had fun turning 20 yesterday!

________________________________________________________

Breakfast Blues

Cody looked at me with his mouth full of food and said, "Mom...[chew chew]...that boy...[chew chew]...is talking with his mouth full."

Here I was, in the cafeteria of Cody's elementary school, watching him eat breakfast. The luxury of a flexible work schedule allowed me quality time with my Kindergartener before heading to my government job.

Cody usually ate breakfast at home, but when he had been especially good in class I'd treat him to breakfast in his school's cafeteria. He always got a kick out of it. Even though I was the only mother there, making her child mind his table manners.

Sometimes other children asked my help in opening their juice or cutting their pancakes. I volunteered to grab spoons and straws they'd forgotten when going through the line.

There were moments, however, when I felt like Dear Abby.

"Mrs. Oliver, there's a boy that says I'm short," one of Cody's classmates said, pouring milk on his cereal. "And I'm not short! So I told him he was short, too!"

"Well, Scott," I replied in my best advice columnist voice. "Instead of calling him 'short,' why don't you tell him this: 'You don't get to be my friend if you keep hurting me like this.'"

"Yeah! I'll tell him he can't be my friend."

"No, Scott. Tell him 'You don't GET to be my friend if you keep hurting me like this.'"

He was thoughtful. Then--

"Okay!"

One morning was especially poignant when a boy piped up suddenly and announced, "My daddy's home."

Since this was an Army town, I figured his father had probably spent weeks out in muddy fields in a tank or something.

"Why, that's wonderful! Where was your daddy? Out in the field?"

His smile faded as he replied glumly, "I don't know."

Puzzled, I asked, "You don't know where your daddy was?"

"No."

"What does he do? What's his job?"

"I don't know," he said, sadness sweeping over his face.

I pasted a smile on my face, gave him a thumbs-up signal, and said cheerfully, "But he's home now! Boy, what fun that will be! You are so lucky!"

He perked up, eyes sparkling, and dittoed my thumbs-up. Finishing his breakfast, he scraped back his chair and said brightly, "Bye-bye!"

"Bye-bye, sweetie."

Who was I kidding? I just prayed that my enthusiasm would hold him over the rest of the day, perhaps the entire week, Lord willing.

One time a little girl next to me said, "I got money for my pictures because my parents thought I looked beautiful!"

Todd, a boy in Cody's class, said softly, "My parents didn't want my pictures."

Oh, the guilt. Just that morning I had slipped an envelope with a check in Cody's book bag to pay for his pictures. Doing so put a sizable dent in our budget. I assumed this was the case with Todd, his parents not being able to afford them. However, judging by his eyes watering, I could see that he took it to mean that his parents thought he was ugly.

Or worse. They just simply didn't care.

Looking squarely into his downcast face, I said firmly, "Todd, your parents don't need any pictures to remind them of how cute you are! Why, you are one handsome young man! Don't you know how proud your parents must be? To have such a handsome young man like you?"

He blushed. Then a shy grin peeked out from behind the shadow on his sweet face.

Oh, how my heartstrings twanged.

Yes, I witnessed heartbreaks and happy breaks in my little boy's cafeteria on the mornings I took him there. I wiped the hands of these precious children when they're done eating. I laughed at their silly faces. I made them mind their table manners. But above all, I recognized that their fears were very real.

Just by listening.

One time an older boy sat across from us with a moussed hairdo that made his short hair stick straight up.

Cody said loud enough for everyone to hear, "Mom, that boy looks like a porcupine."

"That's the way his hair is styled," I said, trying to maintain my composure. "Isn't it cool?"

"Yeah, it's cool."

That was when I noticed across the way the two boys sitting together, talking animatedly over cinnamon rolls. It was Scott chumming with the boy who had made fun of his stature at the beginning of the school year.

Looked like they got to be friends after all.

About the author: Jennifer Oliver resides in the heart of Texas and has three fulltime jobs as a webmaster for the government, wife to awesome househubby, Stephen, and mother to four beautiful kidwarmers, ages 1 to 6 years.

_________________________________________________________

QUOTES FROM LESSER KNOWN PEOPLE:

"God uses His imagination to make all the people." - Ethan Oliver, age 5

_________________________________________________________

FAMILY LOVE MOMENT:

Ethan and Matthew were parked in front of the television set, hypnotized by Saturday morning cartoons, while I was sorting through bills. I was so wrapped up in the task at hand that it took me a moment to realize Cody's absence.

"Guys, where's Cody?" I asked.

"Here I am!" Cody said. "Hey, boys, breakfast is ready."

My six-year-old had taken it upon himself to sneak around the kitchen, making bowls of cereal for his brothers.

- Jennifer Oliver

_________________________________________________________

LOVE,
JENNIFER I. OLIVER AND FAMILY
[email protected]
When you are born, you cry and everyone is happy. So live your life
in such a way that when you die, everyone cries and you are happy.
- Unknown
_________________________________________________________

This e-mail may be forwarded in its entirety, but first ask the writer for permission before forwarding. Thank you for extending this courtesy! Ü
_________________________________________________________

SUBMIT STORY, QUOTE, OR FAMILY LOVE MOMENT:
http://www.geocities.com/jenniferioliver2001/submission.htm

FEEDBACK: [email protected]
_________________________________________________________