Well, that's a new one.

This fall and the beginning of school was a bit of a bear for us as a family.  With three kids in three different schooling situations, it has been one thing to get everyone going where they need to be...and quite another to have everyone be happy about going to their respective places.  It seemed that everyone wanted what he or she did not have, and that tends to disrupt the family peace just a bit.  We have had several talks about what it means to be content, trusting that mom and dad are doing what they believe is best for each one, and above all, trusting God to help us each be content in the place we find ourselves.  That first week was tough.  But the second week was going much better.

On Thursday of that second week of school, Mason was a happy camper as he ran down to catch the bus.  We exchanged "Good-bye!"s and "I-love-you!"s and "Have-a-great-day!"s.  It was a bit chaotic because my sister-in-law was dropping her two youngest kids off for the day, but we chatted for a few minutes and then everything fell into the rhythm of daily life. 

About an hour later, the youngest three children were playing happily and Lily was getting going on school work at the kitchen counter when I heard a soft knock on the door.  Hm, I thought, that's strange.  I looked toward the front door but saw that no one was there.  Just as I was turning around, I saw the basement door slowly opening and Mason's face appear in the crack.  "I'm.....not going to school," he said.

I wish someone had a photo of my face.  Shocked, would be the appropriate description of what it probably looked like.  And I responded with, "Oh yes, you are!  Get your shoes and get in the car!  What are you doing here?  Why are you here?  What have you been doing for the last hour?!"

As it turns out, at some point in the 30 seconds he probably had to consider it, he simply decided that he wasn't going to school.  So he hid in the woods while the bus went by, wandered around in the woods for awhile, and ended up hanging out in the playhouse for as long as he could stand it before he came in.  I keep hope, though, because as we (and his teacher!) explained to him, so many unfortunate things could have happened that he hadn't considered....and I think he understood.  So, yay.  All's well that ends well, I guess.  And as Shandy's 94-year-old grandma reminded me: It's happened before, you know.  :)

PS: This reminded me of the time I left him in the school parking lot when Lily was in kindergarten.  That story is around here somewhere.  And did you know he also put a steak knife in Lily's lunchbox that same year and she had to leave school because she had a weapon?  It's true.  He's not as innocent as he looks.