Humility

So I didn't have a very good day...It was rainy, I was in a bad mood, and it just seemed to be getting worse and worse with time. I really didn't want to be at work, but I had to go. I pick up Andrew from a friends house early because his mom got an e-mail from his teacher saying he got in trouble at school because he didn't finish his classwork. Let the yell fest begin. He starts screaming in the car saying his playdate wasn't long enough and he hates school and all the rest of it. I've learned to accept his screaming and talk to him about it after.

Anyway, the car conversation (for lack of a better word) went from him telling me he hates school, me telling him there are kids in other countries who would really want to take his place and be in school, him telling me school is free, me explaining taxes, him telling me taxes are stupid, but if they exist then why don't other countries use them, me explaining poverty and government corruption, and him asking what he could do about it. Sometimes I think he's too smart for a nine year old and his own good.

Then we go inside and get to work. His poem was actually a really stupid assignment, but I couldn't tell him that because he would have just had another tantrum. He had to write a poem called "If you stepped into my heart you would find..." and then come up with all these different things like, something from nature, something you can hear, something you can see, a feeling from your past. There were some highlights for sure. Something from nature-"ancient bird poo" I let it slide cause it was just too funny. Then, a feeling from the past-"feeling like a midget"...also too funny to tell him no. Then we get to the very last two things: Someone you love and how they make you feel. He gets all shy and looks down at his own stomach. He says "I think I'm looking at it". I didn't get it. I said, " you love yourself? That's all you can think of? What about your mom or da..."
"NOOO! I am looking at her..."
"Who?"
"You! I love you, ok?"
I tried to resist emotion. Okay, you can write me if you want. You should probably write "my babysitter" because your teacher won't understand if you just write my name.

Okay...last one..."how do I make you feel Andrew?"
"I don't know...sometimes it's hard to describe things."
"Yeah, you're right. It's really hard to describe love. But I mean, when I think about my friends, Julie makes me feel important and valued, Ashley makes me feel loved, and Trent makes me laugh, which are all reasons why I love th..."
"Well, you make me feel all of those things."
"Ok, well can you maybe pick one?"
"You make me feel...loved I think? But you also make me laugh and you put up with me when I yell at you and no one else does."
"Ok...well you could just say that I make you feel..."
"Great. I'm just going to write that you make me feel great."

I almost cried. Man, sometimes I can't imagine what it will be like when he gets too old for a babysitter.