Orange Delivery

Drew had a hard time getting up this morning. I must have called him a dozen times, urging him to hurry. He stumbles about trying to get ready, dropping stuff, mumbling. At last he heads out the door. I look at the clock. He is very late and I wonder if he will even make the bus. But after ten minutes I assume he managed to get to the stop on time and I return to my own preparations. Bzzz. My phone goes off. A text from Drew on the bus. He forgot the oranges he so carefully cut up last night for the team to consume at half time in today's game.


I snort. No way I can do anything about that. Too bad. I am sure the team would have appreciated it, but oh, well. My conscience pricks me soundly in the back of the head. "You could take them to him." What? I don't have time. Why should I waste gas running them clear to the other side of the city when its his own fault he was lazy getting ready? That won't teach him anything about responsibility. He is nearly an adult out on his own. Don't pamper him. Besides, people will think he's a Mama's boy.

But I know that there is a better way. I flip through my schedule for the day and think about this. I could swing by the apartment during lunch, pick up the oranges, and drive out to the school. It means I either skip lunch or eat in my car while driving (risky at best). But I remember being a senior in high school, struggling to keep up with all the activities and homework and social stuff. I know he is a good kid and that if I do this, it will have a broader impact for a longer time than if I tried to teach him a lesson. Sold. I will do it.

Traffic is not so bad for lunch hour. I put in a CD of Christmas music and eat a hard roll as I wend my way east. He and I connect in the hallway by the office and I hand off the fruit. He is leaving for the game in a half hour. Timing is good. He starts up the stairs to head back to class, stops, turns around, comes back and gives me a hug. "Thanks, Mom." Then he disappears in a swirl of student bodies passing classes.

Bonus. Sweet.