The Love of a Good Girl

We took Troy back to the daycare today. My wife said that Misha came running to the door to greet them, as soon as my wife and Troy appeared in the class. Troy got a big smile on his face when he saw her. Apparently, she took Troy’s hand and told my wife, “I’ll take care of him from here” as she led him into the class. I guess her mom, who my wife had been texting about Troy’s accident, had told Misha that Troy had gotten hurt, and Misha was very concerned. It was cute to see her take such “responsibility.” She’s a good kid.

The teachers on the other hand are clueless. My wife informed them that Troy would need extra help and attention, because there were certain things that he couldn’t do on his own, like pushing down and pulling up his underwear. They looked at her like it had never occurred to them that they’d need to do something special or different now. I guess they feel zero guilt that my son broke his wrist in their watch.

When my wife picked up Troy in the afternoon, I talked to him on the phone. I asked him how his day went, and he said it was great. I guess he enjoyed the extra attention he got from Misha, and I assume from the other kids who were curious about his new green “robotic” arm. He probably enjoyed being the center of attention and getting to relate the story of how he got the arm and the powers it now gave him. I imagine that by the time he was done relating it, he was the envy of everyone there…such is the curse of those with imagination and the vocabulary to make everyone else see their stories.