Every afternoon at 4:20, the school bus stops on our street. Every afternoon at 4:21, four kids burst through the door, dump backpacks, coats, shoes, papers, lunchboxes everywhere and fight over who gets my attention first by yelling over each other in a non-stop stream of overlapping voices. The following is an actual transcription of actual 4:21 statements I heard in the past week. Recognize that I do not actually respond here, this is all four kids talking over each other:
“Mom, read this note! It’s super important! Mrs. Rohde said so.”
“Mom, can I have a snack?”
“Mom, Solomon got in trouble on the bus!”
“NO I DID NOT!”
“Yes he did, Mom. I saw the whole thing.”
“Mom, mom, mom, you will not even believe it…today was the best day of my life! I got 100% on my math test! LOOK!”
“Mom, I seriously need new shoes right now! Look at these! Today on recess I kicked the ball and they flew right off and then my sock got all muddy. So can we go get some new shoes right now?”
“Mom, you HAVE to volunteer for Field Day or we can’t have it! They said we need more moms RIGHT AWAY. Maybe you could take the day off work?”
“Mom, are you going to make me watch the Reproductive Health video at school? You have to sign this paper.”
“Mom, do I have to go to Thomas’s game tonight? Can’t I PLEASE go to Carly’s house?”
“Mom, someone stole Jessica’s popcorn money and she was crying and I said ‘you can have mine’ and then she stopped crying.”
“Mom, what are we having for dinner?”
“Can we have mashed potatoes?”
“No, yesterday she said we were having tacos tonight.”
“I hate tacos! Are there any leftover mashed potatoes?”
“Mom, can I go play with Alex?”
DING DONG (doorbell rings, random neighbor child comes in)
“Mom, when is dinner? Do I have time to play basketball with Derek and Pujan?”
“Mom, look at my art project! It’s a bird! Some of the glitter came off her wings in my backpack. Actually, kind of a lot came off in my backpack, now it’s all over my folder. And my lunchbox. And my sweatshirt. Oops.”
“Miss Joan… can I use the bathroom?” (remember the random neighbor kid?)
“Mom, guess what? Miss Johnson’s dog got sick and pooped all over her house!”
“That’s disgusting!”
“Yeah, I know. Joey said that happened to his dog too. When is dinner?”
There is no way that I can actually respond to this overlapping litany of urgency. After they wind themselves down (about 4:27) my response is usually something like this:
“Put the papers on the desk, go outside and clean the glitter out of your backpack, dinner is tacos and no mashed potatoes, I don’t want any complaining, and we’re eating in 20 minutes, you can play for 15. I’m not volunteering for anything, we’ll get new shoes on the weekend, I did NOT need to know about Miss Johnson’s dog and there had BETTER NOT be trouble on the bus. Great job on the math test and that was really nice to share your popcorn money. Hey Carly, when you get out of the bathroom go ask your mom if the girls can stay at your house while we’re at Thomas’s game, and yes, Thomas, you have to watch Reproductive Health and then we’re gonna TALK ABOUT IT! Muahahahahahahahaha!”
Next fall, Thomas will come home before me. There are only a few more days of the craziness of 4:21. Believe it or not, I think I will really miss it.
