Harrison recently started band, which meant he had to go to the high school for his first rehearsal.
As I pulled up that early morning, I wondered if I needed to accompany him inside as fathers and mothers of other fourth-graders were. Then I wondered aloud.
I really didn’t want to go in without makeup and in workout clothes, so I selfishly said, “You don’t need me to go in, right?”
As I brought the car to a stop and watched another mother toddling in her kid, I heard Harrison say, “Now that’s a good mom.”
A sense of guilt overcame me.
“OK, I will come in,” I said.
But Harrison popped the door open, grabbed his knapsack and trumpet case and said, “No, I can go in by myself,” as he smiled. “Bye, Mommy!”
Off to the gym I went, proud of both of us.