I picked up my grandchildren from school one day last week. They tumbled into the car, all three talking at once. I asked that we tell me about the day...one at a time. After a pause, they all began at once again. That didn't work. But, as a Grandparent, key to survival and ultimate "coolness" is to be able to pick up a word or two from any direction and run with any concept that may be close enough to place you in the "you know everything, Mommy doesn't listen" category of civilization.
I did pick up a snippet of news, in spite of all of the chaos. Tess: "I have a part in the 'Living Stations of the Cross'! I ma am going to be Simon of Cyrene! I help Jesus carry the cross! You don't have to make a costume though. Mrs. Macouiscious has costumes." Whew, I was told that the following week - Tuesday, I could watch the performance at 9 A.M. Tess, then very seriously unfolded a rather ragged piece of paper with her lines on it. "Mrs. Macouiscious uses the same papers over and over each year. If I lose this, I will be out of the Stations and she will be very mad." I immediately headed to Staples to make a fresh copy of the role. Now, Tess could turn in the original, aged sheet and she could study her lines from the new one.
Yeah, right!
The next morning, we gathered our wits and raced to the door to get to school. I was going to drop the Trio off and head back to my home, two hours away. As we bumped into each other at the door, Tess asked: "Meme! (may may) Do you have my part?" I replied that I didn't. She quizzed her bothers and her Mom. We all came up empty handed. Tanner checked Tess' room; Todd did a sweep of the living room; Tiff (my daughter, her Mom) ransacked the kitchen. Todd and I emptied the kitchen trash from one bag to another and Tanner and Tiff went through the recycle container. we all sifted through what they call a burn pile. Neither copy surfaced! By now, Tess was in tears. "I can't be Simon! Mrs. Macouiscious will be furious! What am I going to do? Meme! Do you remember the lines, can you write them down?"
Ah-huh...
Then, my memory kicked in! Last school year, when Todd was in Fifth Grade and had Mrs. Macouiscious, there was a four foot statue of Mary, the Blessed Mother in the classroom. She was missing a hand, her nose was gone as well. It was old and chipped, in total disrepair. Statue restoration is expensive and apparently not in the Bishop Fenwick's budget for some time. My father and mother wanted me to be a Kindergarten teacher. I grew up to tackle the Triple A - Author, Actor and thank goodness Artist!
I dropped the children off at the door where all drop offs occur, pulled around to the front of the school and buzzed my way into the office (which happens to be across the hall from Tess' classroom). The secretary was happy to see me and asked if I was staying in town for a while. I said that I was returning to Kettering, but I had three questions for her. The Principal poked her head out of her office door and said nothing, but I know that I was to be the morning coffee entertainment for her.
"Question #1 - Are parents and grandparents invited to the Living Stations of the Cross next week?" Answer with a smile: "Oh yes, Nine A/M. sharp in the gym."
"Question #2 - Tess has misplaced her lines. Might I ask Mrs. Macouiscious for them?" Answer with a semi-frown: "Well, you can try to ask when the class comes upstairs from morning prayer, but..." Her voice seemed to drift off.
"Question #3 - I noticed that the Statue of Mary in Mrs. Macouiscious' room is in terrible shape. I majored in Art and Theatre while in college and graduated with degrees in both. Would the school/parish be opposed to me taking it home for four to six weeks to restore the statue? Should I ask Mrs. Macouiscious?" Answer with a radiant smile: "Oh, that is wonderful of you to offer! Here she comes down the hall now! Go right over there and have a chat with her!"
That's what I thought.
I approached Tess' teacher as the class unpacked their bags and settled in. I complimented the entire Living Stations of the Cross presentation, deftly touched on lost lines as I slipped in a broken statue comment with the remedy. I did this all in one breath in one sentence. Mrs. Macouiscious blinked, shook her head to clear it and process the assault on her mind. Without another word from me, she beamed and said that by the end of the day, she would give Tess another copy of her part. She suggested that if I pick up the children,, a janitor would help move Mary into my car for her voyage into repair. I said that I could not linger because I had a pressing matter at home, but, on the Monday afternoon, the day before the performance, I would pick up the children, pull to the front of the building and Mary could hop aboard for the trip of a lifetime to my plaster spa.
Somehow, this grandparenting thing is a lot of work. Bottom line, Tess has her part; Mary will have her hand (nose and paint too) and I made a deal.
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