Jack

October 15, 2009

Jack and I go way back. We have been the best of friends since I first cradled him in my arms almost 6 years ago. At the start of preschool last year, I am sure I felt almost as proud as his loving parents did of their little man. With a chuckle, I enjoy fondly reminiscing about memories of his younger days.

One year, after taking down my beautifully decorated Christmas tree, I hurried outside dragging the 6 ft. cumbersome object awkwardly behind me through the slushy-snow. Just as I reached the curb, the garbage man tossed it quickly into the tree-eating contraption before promptly continuing on his route. Walking back into my house with a feeling of accomplishment, I noticed Jack sitting on the couch somberly staring at the empty corner where the Christmas tree once stood. With not even a chance to ask him what was wrong, he pointed his finger sternly at the front door. “Go out and get it,” he insisted, like he had lost his favorite stuffed animal. If my young friend could have had his way, I was to bring the recycled tree back in my home, set it in the same place all dolled up with colorful lights and keepsake ornaments, and that was where it was to stay put indefinitely. I tried to convince him that it was an impossible request. But I didn’t have the heart to tell the little guy that the tree was now a soggy-wet crushed Noble. His sweet compliment was a reflection through a child’s eyes that sometimes the gifts Santa puts under the tree are not nearly as important as the tree itself.

I sure miss my side kick, as my young friend Jack started all-day kindergarten this fall. He helped me keep my daycare in perfect order. It was as if his high-achiever brain had mentally a piece of paper in hand at all times with a gentle reminder if I was slacking on our daily routine.

Trust me, I am really not a matchmaker for 5-year-olds. When Jack was in preschool, I asked him about his new friends and if there was anybody he would like to meet. He shyly answered back looking up at me with a twinkle in his eye, “Yes, but I can’t remember her name.”

Like an old pro I suggested, “Just go up to her and say, “Hi, my name is Jack, what’s yours?” A couple of days later, I checked on his progress. This time he did know her name and informed me that they had met. No wonder the little guy couldn’t remember. Arianna is such a beautiful name, but it would be hard for anybody to spit out the four-syllables on the first try. Hey, I concluded, he has this, being a lady’s man, down to a tee.

Arianna’s name didn’t come up again in conversation until this year. Jack’s mother had shared with me that his class had 10 girls and 5 boys. Wow, what were the odds that his pre-school crush was not part of the ratio of where girls outnumbered the boys by such a wide margin?

Curiously, I asked, “Jack is Arianna in your class this year?”

“No, she is in the second grade” he stated matter-of-factly, as if being a kindergartner had made him much more knowledgeable.

“That can’t be, Arianna couldn’t have jumped from preschool to 2nd grade, that’s just not how it works” I replied. “Are you sure Jack?” Having known this boy for such a long time, he didn’t even flinch when he said that he was telling the truth.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I didn’t bother to explain that you don’t usually skip more than one grade at one time. But when his father came to pick him up that evening from my home, I hoped he might clear up this little mystery. As he jumped in his vehicle, in a rush that particular day, he hollered out, “No, Arianna is actually in the 6th grade.”

Oh my, this girl has not only has a beautiful name, but she is extremely bright I thought to myself.

The next morning, I cornered Jack’s mother and had her tell me what I must be missing from this story. She informed me that Arianna is still his love-interest, and really she is in the 6th grade, however, Jack met her last year before school in extended day. If only I had known he was going for an older woman, I would have changed my whole approach—as we are still best friends forever you know.

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