Grandparents Day

In the average school day, the average student goes to all of his or her classes, is about thirty seconds late to at least one class, participates at least once in the class discussion, might misplace a pen for a few moments before finding it--right where he or she left it, I might add--and might ask a teacher a question after class. Today just wasn't one of those days. Perhaps that's because it wasn't the average school day, and I wasn't the average student. Today was Grandparents Day at my school. For my last four thirty-five minute classes,  my grandpa came with me and we were students together. 

And, I might add, throughout this half-day, I attended all my classes, was tardy to three of them, participated alternately with my Grandpa in nearly all of them, witnessed a conversation with a teacher that was of record-deserving length, and observed, rather forlornly, that a grandfather was lost.

I went down to the middle school and picked my grandpa up right before English class. Once we reached the classroom--which is in an underground hallway we all call "The Dungeon"-- class began and we started to discuss passages regarding poetry, what it means to be a parent, and--of course-- The Big Sleep. After making several excellent contributions to our class (Grandpa, I'm so proud of you!!) and passing me a delicious Baskin Robbins ice cream flavored candy, Grandpa and I got up to go. 

"I can see why you like this class so much," he told had me just five minutes into it.

I had insisted that Grandpa come to this class, because I had an inkling that he would like my teacher. And, yes, pay up! They got along great! Not only did they proceed to have the longest grandpa-teacher conversation in living history, but they also seem to agree on everything. They both, for some reason, wanted to go to the same literature college in NYC. And, of course, neither ever went. They got along so well that, after a brief summary of our family history, they'd agreed to get our family together and go out to breakfast. A "breakfast with fellows," I believe it will be called. I hope I get to go! This will be so very interesting!! 

Then, we arrived fifteen minutes late to my history class. And what did Grandpa proceed to do? He did nothing other than answer the teacher's questions with the exactly perfect answers. Answers so perfect, I might add, that the other students and I were looking at each other and scrunching our faces to keep ourselves from cracking up. This specific teacher has brought the class's special attention to the topics of rights, women's rights, and tolerance. And my Grandfather stopped nothing short of suggesting, in response to the question "in what areas do the central government and the state governments' powers intersect", "rights", "women's suffrage",  and "gay marriage". At one point I gave up my struggle and laughed out loud. It did help a little that everyone else was silently cackling also.

After this, we went to math class, where I saved us two seats--unfortunately in the front row, because we'd arrive late-- and then bolted out the door so we could use the bathrooms. Then, after that, Grandpa decided that he was thirsty. Since the water fountain wasn't working, we went to a student-run cafe/store in a common hang-out room and he bought me a Snapple and got San Pelligrino's version of lemon-Orangina for himself. Seven minutes late, we pushed into math with our drinks, interrupted the entire movie-watching process, and proudly disturbed the entire front row. I personally had to sit in front of a little grandma and grandpa the whole time and I hope my hair didn't block the Smart Board for them. 

Then right before French, my next class, Grandpa decided he wanted to get some fresh air. So, we went out the door and ended up taking a little walk to the sunny part of the lawns--or pelouse, I should say--before class. 

When we came back to the classroom, Grandpa confessed to me how he doesn't speak other languages.  Regardless of this, Grandpa still participated and we were a pair for the game of charades. We got the worst verbs to act out! I was horrified that we got to act out the verb "to undress". And he took off his belt. And I panicked and nearly yelled "put it back on!!!"  He eventually developed another strategy: he looked over the teacher's shoulder when she held out the cards (hidden from the guessers' view) that had the English and French version of what verb to act out. Of course, being the helpful soul he is, he'd drop hints about what the word was. The only problem was that I couldn't remember how to say any of them in French. Oopsies!

Now, I wouldn't want for you not to hear about the missing grandpa. I was in the library typing a chemistry lab when someone suddenly says to me "That boy forgot his Grandpa!" 

I looked around, unabashed, probably being super rude and gawking at the guy who'd left his poor grandpa alone while he went to study.

I found him sitting at a table, the man in question at his side. He'd left his grandpa near the entrance of the school--I'm still not sure exactly why he left his grandpa-- and had completely forgotten he was there. The boy then continued on to the library as if nothing had happened--for, according to his memory, apparently nothing had happened! A dean had to bring the grandpa along, looking for the boy, who then allowed his grandfather to witness a productive study hall session. My, my. Oh, how some people just tend to lose things... Poor grandpa! Who says forgetfulness comes with old age? Complete nonsense if you ask me!

And so I had a great Grandparents Day today! Even though my grandma stayed down in the middle school with my little cousin, Grandpa and I had a great time and rocked all our classes. A+, Grandpa!