Is This Your Son?

Being the mother of a magical child with a checkered history can be an emotional roller coaster. I wince when someone calls, “Is this Mrs. Morgan? I wanted to call you about Jasper.” Or when they say, “Are you Jasper’s mom? Can I talk to you a minute?” Conferences are a sort of arduous time, when my guard is up out of habit.
Today at conferences when we walked (the lad and I) into the open-plan conference area (you know, all the teachers at individual tables in a big room. Don’t they all operate that way?) a man looked at me and jumped up from his seat. He and his son were waiting in line to talk to a teacher. He jumped up and said, “Are you Jasper’s mom?”
I looked him in the eye somewhere between resolute and resigned. “Yes, I’m Jasper’s mom.” His son stayed seated, looking at his shoes. “I just wanted to meet you and mention what a great kid Jasper is. We were having some trouble with our iPad and he overheard us talking about it. He came over and explained what was going on. Really helpful.”
I’ll admit it. I hugged him and told him I loved him. The guy I mean. It was nice.


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