Why don't you have a seat over there?

So the phone rings yesterday, early afternoon. I checked the caller ID- it was a man's name that I didn't recognize. I figured it was a wrong number & answered it. I'm a good citizen. So this deep adult male voice says "Can I speak to Wesley".



(insert record scratch noise) HOLD UP!








I didn't say anything because I'm gathering steam to produce Frightenting Parent Voice when he says "This is Mr. James".

Oh, pheeeeewww. It's his teacher! I hand the phone to Wes, who promptly hits the wrong button & hangs up. He apparently has never seen the phone in his life and can't puzzle out the complexities required in putting it to your ear & talking.

I made him call Mr. James back & apologize for being such a doofus. Turns out Mr. James & his co-teacher Ms. Thompson are giving 5 dollars to every kid in his class who passed the FCAT (state standardized test) and were arranging to meet up in a local park. Apparently Mr. James is retired from a city planning job in New York and has many, many dollars to spare.

Poor Wes; hanging on a Sunday, listening to his iPod and a TEACHER calls..his HOUSE..to talk to HIM. He walked around like he'd been tased the rest of the day.

He was so traumatized we couldn't get any useable info out of him. There was "some deal" at Victory Park (which, eeeew) at "maybe 10ish or something I. Dont. Know" and "you're not going to leave me there are you? God."

Turns out they are having a cookout for the kids from 10:30 to 12:30 and when Chris dropped him off, there were squirt guns.

We? Are the kind of parents who will NOT leave our kids in a city park unarmed so Chris went to Walgreens & got him a Water Rocket Launcher with Nuclear Option thing.

It's all about arming your kids with the tools to succeed in the real world. Also, don't bring a squirt gun to a Super Soaker fight, people.