This morning as we were waiting for the bus (yes we were actually waiting and not sprinting down the drive while the bus rolled toward us. We were early...for once), I remembered that I had not checked the mail last night when I got home. So, I quickly scooted across the road to retrieve the usual stack of bills and credit card offers. But, today instead of just double miles promises and requests for my hard earned dollars, there was a fat envelope from the Cubscout's school. Fat envelope? School lunch bills are skinny (and since the "I think I will eat breakfast at school without telling anyone that I have been charging" debacle, I have religiously checked SIS for balances).
I ripped open the envelope, read the first line, and immediately started crying. I know you are all like, "Crying? She titled her post Good News. I'm confused." The letter was from the gifted coordinator, and the Cub has been referred for testing. I was ecstatic for him. Because it is one thing to think your child is smart, but an entirely different one for someone else to think so, too.
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