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Grumpy Side of 60
She still doesn’t
like me
By Bob Robinson
“Oooh… what kind of ring is that?”
“My college class ring.”
“Oh.” Disappointed. “I thought it was a Super Bowl ring.”
I grinned. Not likely, I thought, unless 40 or 50 years ago they might
have wanted me for a goal post. They didn’t even have a Super Bowl then.
“Nope. Sorry. Why? Does it look like a Super Bowl ring?” He shrugged.
“I dunno,” he said. “Never seen one, but it’s fancy like a Super Bowl
ring would be.”
His older sister gave him one of those “looks” that big sisters usually
reserve for kid brothers, thanked me and said it was time to find Mom.
We were at Prairie Days.
About a half hour later a girl about 9 or 10 stopped walking and looked
at me quizzically…
“You’re Mr. R(name), aren’t you?” she finally asked. Needless to say I
wasn’t Mr. R but something rang a bell. She looked familiar. It had
been nearly two years since I had subbed in Mrs. R’s class. It was a
first grade class and I’d only been there once. She would be in the
third grade now.
“No. My name is Mr. Robinson. You were in Mrs. R’s class, weren’t you?”
She nodded. “And you said you were real lucky because you got to be Mr.
R for the day.”
I shook my head. “No, sweety, I said I was real lucky because I got to
be MRS. R for the day.”
She laughed. “You can’t be Mrs. R,” she said. “She’s a woman. You tried
to trick us.”
That’s exactly what the kids said that day. I grinned. “And you wrote
that note asking if I was going to come in again, didn’t you?”
She thought about it; then nodded, smiling. “Bye, Mr. R,” she said as
she rejoined her family.
It came back to me like it was yesterday.
I was in then Supt. Susie Riegle’s office, interviewing her about her
decision to retire. I’d gotten the note the previous week and showed it
to her…
“Dear Mr. R(name). Will you be on Monday. P.s. hi. Love, (name).”
Susie laughed and said, “You know, you will always be ‘Mr. R’ to that
child, don’t you?”
I still have her note among my collection of drawings and other things
kids I’d taught over the last two years had given me. And yes, Susie
was right. To this little girl I’ll always be Mr. R.
A third grader once gave me a rubber “flower” during recess. I told her
I would keep it…
“Forever?”
“Uh… well… sure, sweety. Forever.” She grinned and ran off with her
friends. For the remainder of the year I never went onto the East
School campus without it. I still have it in my bedside table drawer.
Last year toward the end of the year three or four second grade
students were getting ‘new school’ jitters. One insisted on holding my
hand during recess. When her friends saw her they grabbed my other
hand. Since there were three of them, they were relegated to a finger
each.
“Mr. Robinson,” said one of them. “Will you come to East School with
me? It’s a new school. I’m scared. I want you to come with me.”
“I’ll do my best, sweety, but I go where they send me. You’ll be fine.
You’ll have all your friends with you.”
I didn’t know at the time I’d be changing my career path once again;
but the good memories will never leave me.
Then there’s Callie Z. Sweet Callie.
I saw her at the beginning of the year when I was covering an
assignment at lunchtime. As soon as she saw me she smiled, covered her
face and looked away.
“Do you like me now?”
“No,” she said emphatically, trying to hide her grin. “I still don’t
like you!”
Ah yes. Sweet memories!
Published courtesy of The
Early Bird
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