Baxter, snuggled next to me in bed: “Mommy, there is one thing [The Teacher] is wrong about.”
Me: “What’s that, honey?”
Baxter: “She says second graders don’t cry anymore. But everyone cries. Even grown-ups.”
In the end, no matter how whacked The Teacher is, our lessons seem to be overriding hers. And for that I’ll count my blessings today.