Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers March Slice a Day Challenge!
I’m slicing every day this month. Thanks for stopping by. 🙂

 

The walk. 

The day felt almost like spring, with the sun shining and the snow melting. We are on a little bit of a spring break detox (too much time in the car, not enough time moving our bodies, too many car snacks…) so we all need some extra exercise.  It was light out still, thanks to daylight savings.

So, I took a chance. I stopped trying to figure out what to write,  leashed Finnegan, packed dog treats, and a snack for H, and I walked to school to pick him up from drama. Hoping, that there was no drama about my springing a cold 25 minute walk home on my son who had already had a full daylight savings Monday back from spring break — school and drama practice.

Of course, the dog pooped a block from home, at which point I realized I only had one bag. I cleaned it up, because that’s what you do, people. And, I clipped the bag of poop to the leash, on the little clip that Mr. Thought has thoughtfully engineered so you don’t have to carry a bag of poop in your hands. It’s a great system, but sometimes I get annoyed at the bag swaying and the little creaking noise the clip makes.

I kept walking, a little in a rush because good ol’ Finny isn’t what you might call a great leash walker. (We are working on it!)

About a block from school, I remembered that I had seen an email from H’s teacher saying something about a sprained ankle. So, I tried to think of what we would do if I got to him and he actually couldn’t walk home. Who could I call to help? He could stay at school, and I’ll rush home and get the van and then pick him up. I could call my friends and see if any of them are still at school. I could wait with him at school for an hour and a half until Mr. Thought comes home. . .

I got to the top of the hill, and hoped he’d get my text to know where to meet me. I had to keep Finn entertained, because he thinks every person who walks by him should be his new best friend.

When H walked out of school with his backpack and his chrome book binder bag, I didn’t notice a limp. A little hope flittered around me.

“I took a chance…” I said. “We are walking home. I’ll carry your bag!”

His eyes were wide. “I brought everything home with me today!” He said, and I cringed a little.

I smiled, and explained that I had thought we could both get a little exercise.

“I love it!” he said, as he handed me my bag.

“Wanna hold the poop?” I asked him, tired of it swaying back and forth on the leash.

He agreed to run it over to the trash can.

I handed it to him, and noticed it had somehow leaked on my hand.

BLECH AGH. . . what are the words that can fully describe this?

“Get some snow!” H yelled. “Wipe it in the dirt!”

As I stuck my hand in the freezing pile of snow, I looked down and noticed that every sway of that poop bag had left a little smear on my pants.

H ran back from the trash can. “That can is full of poopy bags,” he said, “all different colors of poopy bags. Did you get it off in the snow?”

I told him I had, but that it was all over my pants.

“That’s probably just mud, because that’s on your jacket too.”

Nope. Not mud.

Not. Mud.

It was gross, but we had to walk home. H took off his jacket, because he’s 12, and it was over 20 degrees. He explained that it was light out, and daylight savings makes it seem like spring.  The sun was still out as we made our way home.

“I am so. So. So. Sorry about that poop.” Mr Thought texted me after I told him the story.

But, It wasn’t his fault, and as I told him, “Now I have a slice!”

There must be a moral to this story…

Sometimes in life, poop happens… but a walk home on a cold and sunny Monday evening with your son will always be worth it. 

or…

Sometimes in life, poop happens, but then you have a story.