Call the Police

Last week at school, our son got to celebrate Dr. Seuss’s birthday. Yeah, the dead guy gets an entire week! Throughout the week, each day had a special theme. Like every well intentioned mom, I had taken a peek at the piece of red construction paper his teacher sent home so I could be prepared for each day and escape any reprimands from my all-too-articulate-4.5 year old.

And….like every *well* intentioned mom, I forgot. Most days I could piece things together:  First day was hat day (borrowed one from grandma’s collection of things that never get thrown away incase we need them one day—score!), next PJ day (easy), mismatch day (Mom-red is a crazy color, right? I’ll wear a red shirt…crushed it!)…and then there was Thursday.

“Who do you want to be when you grow up?”

Crap. Forgot about that one. Now, to my defense, I did text a few friends asking if they happened to have any police officer costumes collecting dust in their kids’ closets from Halloween. But no luck. Hence – I forgot.

Praise the good Lord I happened to have a police officer hat; meltdown at 6:45AM avoided. A hat, a pair of ankle high gray sweat pants, and a blue shirt. Good enough.

That day his teachers had the students draw a portrait of themselves as their desired career. The picture posted is our son as a police officer. He’s in blue (cuz blue’s a good guy color, Mom). If you look closely enough, there is another person in this picture. So, naturally, I want to find out more.

Whenever he brings home his artwork I always ask him to “tell me about what you drew” (because 90% of the time I have no clue what it is). His response to this particular masterpiece goes as follows:

H: Oh, that’s me. With my police officer hat.
Me: Tell me about the other person in the picture.
H: Yeah, that’s a bad guy… I’m taking him to jail…It’s probably Claire.
Me: *Face Palm*

Naturally, I kept it.

Sorry, sis.

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