We Heart Our Teachers

During the summer, I prayed for the boys' teachers. I prayed the Lord would place each boy where they needed to be. I trusted Him with the right fit.

We have been blessed with great teachers this year. All three boys have competent, professional, caring ladies to take care of them. I know this is not always the norm, so I am very thankful.

I am especially grateful for Garrett's teacher. Mrs. Whitsell was made to be a kindergarten teacher. She is bubbly, sweet, fun-loving, and 100% dedicated to her students.

She only has one downfall. She is a Red Raider. My G knows that his Daddy doesn't like Texas Tech, so he came home on the first day of school upset about her college of choice. I had to talk him through forgiveness and acceptance.

I am not kidding.

I'm pleased to say that Garrett has definitely forgiven her, but he doesn't let a day go by without reminding her of his love for Texas A&M. He carries an A&M backpack. He writes with an Aggie pencil. He wears his Aggie shirts as fast as I can wash them. And he reminds Mrs. Whitsell of the team the Ags face on the football field the following Saturday.

This past weekend, Tech played Texas Longhorns. Garrett cannot stand the Longhorns. (Note to self: Talk to G about forgiveness and acceptance again.)

On the Monday before the Raider/Longhorn game, G told Mrs. Whitsell, "I hope Tech wins this week. I don't like the Longhorns." When my boy told me about this after school that day, I laughed out loud.

I had a conference with his teacher later in the week, and she and I giggled about the common ground that she and G had found. I'm glad she's a good sport.

Unfortunately, Tech lost to the Longhorns. My ornery husband encouraged Garrett to take her some tissue on Monday.

When Monday morning came around, I found my baby stuffing kleenex in his camo shorts. "What are you doing, G?"

"I'm taking kleenex to Mrs. Whitsell because the Raiders lost," he said.

Duh, Mom!

When I picked him up that afternoon, he was proud to report that he had followed through. I asked for a play by play.

"I walked right up to her and handed her a kleenex. She asked me what it was for, and I told her, 'Boohoo, Texas Tech lost.' She wiped her eyes and pretended to cry. And she carried it all day and would pretend to cry. When I was leaving to come home, she said, 'Thank you for my kleenex.' I told her, 'My dad told me to do it.' She said, 'Your dad must be funny.'"

Yes, his dad is funny, and so is my G. I'm glad Mrs. Whitsell thinks so. And I'm thankful for her, even though she's a Raider.