As you might know, L. rides the school bus. The bus picks her up outside of another school that isn't being used as such anymore. It's more of an office building of some kind now. When the weather is bad, we wait inside the building where it is dry.
Earlier this week, L. and I were waiting inside the empty building, and one of the security cameras caught her eye.
L: "Does that work?"
Mom: "Probably not, since the school is no longer open."
L.: "But the lights are flashing."
Mom: "Uh huh. Yeah, look, I don't really know, ok?"
L: "Mrs. G. says that when the light is red, it means someone is misbehaving, and when it's yellow, everything is fine."
Mom: "What? Did she really said that?"
L.: "Yes." And then her eyes got real wide. "Oh no, look! It's flashing red!
Well, it must be someone in another hallway because I know it's not me!"
The other day she came home and asked me about leprechauns, what they look like, could we see some images on Google, please? Sure, sure, fine. She was asking so many questions, though, I thought it best to clarify that they are not real. They don't really exist, you know that, right?
L: "Well, Mrs. G. believes in them. She says they are real."
(Oops, I didn't mean to ruin the classroom fun. But oh well, I couldn't back down now.)
Me: "Well, they're not. But it's still fun to celebrate St. Patrick's Day."
On Tuesday, they laid out "leprechaun traps" and left them overnight to see if they could catch any on Wednesday. I wondered what the teacher was planning.
Me: "Oh, do you think Mrs. G. might dress up as a leprechaun tomorrow?"
L (rolling her eyes): "Mom, she would never fit into that paper bag."
Me: "Paper bag? Oh, I know! It will be a toy leprechaun that you catch!"
L: "What? How would they get in there?"
So I dropped it. She came home after school on Wednesday very excited to tell me all about the day's events. I asked her about the traps and she explained that the leprechauns were "so tricky" and they left behind some of the gold and clover leaves and some of the feathers from their hats, too.
Ah, clever one, Mrs. G., I thought.
But L. wouldn't stop talking about it. She had to tell me about everything that had happened that day. All the snacks, games, who was wearing green, and on and on. Forty five minutes after she got off the bus, she was still talking and I was getting a little tired of it all, to tell the truth. The leprechauns who had snuck into the classroom in the night had apparently wreaked a good bit of havoc. They had turned the calendar and the class schedule and some other items upside down and left other tell-tale evidence of their visit.
Finally, I understood why she was so insistent: "Now do you believe in leprechauns, Mommy? Do you? Because who else would have done all that?"