Acts of Chivalry

On Wednesday I went to "Moms and Muffins" in my son's first grade class.  It was adorable.  He welcomed me with all the chivalry his 7 year old spirit could muster. 

"Thank you for coming," he said as he led me to his desk and pulled out my chair.  He lovingly placed the paper lei that he had made himself around my neck. Then he showed me his many gifts. The laminated poem with a handwritten note on the back:  I love you, Mom.  Love Griffin, it said.  The hand written and illustrated book he had made described all the things that make me special.  (Did you know that I can do a backflip off the diving board and the thing I do best is diving and swimming with dolphins.  I didn't either.  Not until I read his book.  I am much more amazing than I thought.)  Then he asked me what I would like to drink, "Lemonade or water?" and he asked me what I would like to eat, "Blueberry or chocolate muffin?" and then he waited on me, and when, because he had to wait until his group's number was called and didn't have anything to eat or drink yet, I asked him if he wanted some of mine, he hesitated only a moment before refusing.  "No.  That's for you," he gallantly replied.  Like I said, it was an amazingly chivalrous day, and I loved every minute of it.

I even wore my paper lei all that day.  But, you can't keep everything, which is what I said to myself when I threw the paper lei in the garbage yesterday as I cleaned up the kitchen.  I had lovingly stored away the book and the laminated poem, but the paper lei was just too unwieldy.  Besides, he would never even know...

...until he returned home from school and found it laying in the garbage can.  "Mom?  What was this doing in the garbage?" he accused as he walked into the living room, the paper lei swinging from his index finger.

And then I did what every good mother would do.  I lied.  "What?  That was in the garbage can?  How did that get there?  Maybe the baby put it in there.  Boy!  I sure am glad you found it!"

And he was amazingly chivalrous as he laid it gently in my hands.  "Me, too," he said.  "Me, too."  As for the fact that I blamed a two year old?  Well, I've been thinking about that, and I've decided he can take it.  It's chivalry in training.