Tonight, I got home late from a professional development session I co-facilitated. Dinner was in the oven, and to this tired soul, the 'gourmet' Red Baron pizza (with extra cheese!) baking inside made me want run to the table like I was sliding into home base.
My husband cut and served the gooey goodness and we sat down to chat as a family. Of course, the normal conversations ensued:
"So, what did you do at work today?" I asked my beam-designer husband.
(I still inquire...even though his technical jargon sounds more to me like the person Peppermint Patty conversed with on the phone in Peanuts cartoons.)
"Normal. Got a 90% deadline tomorrow..."
(Blah, blah, blah---LOVE how cheesy this slice is.)
Still arrested by my dairy affair, a little voice rescued me from coveting the last slice lying mere steps away in our midget kitchen.
"Mommy, what did you do at wawk today?"
(In Reid-speak, that's 'work.')
I stared into his brownie eyes. In fact, it might've taken me a minute to process his informational request.
OK, he asked me what I did today at work. Really? That's never happened before.
OK, so I have to answer him.
What do I say? What do I say?
How do I put what I do in a day in two-year-old terms...?
"Well, I talked with some teachers,
then, I tested some kids,
then, I taught some kindergarteners a little more about writing,
then, I worked on letters with some other kids,
then, I went to a meeting."
(Obviously, the abridged version of March 8...)
'Did you eat pizza at your wawk meeting?" my lovely little one inquired.
Even a toddler knows the best meetings are those which offer soul-pleasing snacks. My benchmark for planning future gatherings has been reinforced (yet again).