Accents

My oldest daughter moved up to a primary class for the children turning five this year. We have an amazingly organized primary and so we spent Saturday morning at a pajama primary party meeting her new teacher. I carefully explained to Cleo that everyone was supposed to wear their pajamas but she steadfastly refused. Even when I offered to let her wear her Cinderella jammies that are 1 1/2 sizes to small. She said the kids would laugh at her, so I hauled her to the party in full dress--dotted knit pants, navy shirt with sequins and a bright daffodil yellow cardigan (yes, I know I'm imposing my love of cardigans on my daughter, but that's my perogative as a parent.) When we arrived Cleo was assigned a sticker and told to follow the yard path of matching color. She took one look at the tangle of kids climbing over chairs and each other in their quest and burst into tears. So, instead of dropping her off in the safe care of the primary and running to the car to read my novel I carried/dragged a terrified child to meet her new primary teacher. Once at the assigned blanket, overseen by an affectionate and large Fijian woman I introduced Cleo and thought I'd try again to make a dash for freedom. You probably aren't surprised to find this pathetic escape attempt didn't work. But I was. I spent the next 45 minutes sitting on the floor inching Cleo closer to her loving primary teacher. By then end of our time, Cleo was at least not crying, but still refused to speak to anyone other than me.

Fast forward to this morning. I dressed and fed my girls and headed for church where we spent an hour enjoying our first meeting together then prepared to drop my kids off at their respective classes. Both girls ended up going, but not after a few tears and my promise to return just as soon as my class ended. By the end of our meetings, I fetched both girls--now happy and beaming about their new teachers and what they had learned. The best part was when Cleo explained the following in response to questions about how she liked her new teacher.

"Well, I like her. And she speaks a kind of English, but like Chinese. Like this. " At this point Cleo lowers her high soprano voice to what sounds like a baritone and says, "Kids, if you have any questions just ask." Then she raised her voice and replayed her response. "I certainly will. And I will obey the truth by being good." This cracked me up, and I wish I had the guts to tell her teacher about her cute impersonation, but since I don't know this woman very well, I'd be afraid of offending her with Cleo's description and mock-deep voice.