Today, Moose was so excited for his after-school playdate with his friend, Ryan. Moose has been bugging me for weeks to set this up, and the day was finally here. Moose planned the whole afternoon: first a snack, then homework, play and then dinner here in The Zone.
Ah, but the best laid plans go astray. In the middle of my 3-mile walk his morning, Ryan’s dad, a teacher at the Snooty School, called me to say Ryan flipped out at the prospect of going home with someone other than his parent or grandparent. Ryan’s dad was trying to convince the boy to change his mind, but he wasn’t optimistic. Meanwhile, we arranged to meet at carline after school, on the off-chance that Ryan saw reason.
I knew it was bad news as soon as I saw Moose’s face after school. No smile. Only a dejected “Hi, Mom.” Oh no. Then Ryan’s dad ran over and apologized profusely for his son, asking if we could possibly reschedule on a weekend soon. I said “of course.”
I drove home, but Moose wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t look at me. He dragged himself into the house and up to his room. Wild Thing reported he heard crying. I climbed the stairs and knocked twice on Moose’s door. When he didn’t answer, I let myself in. I found the most pitiful sight. There was Moose curled up in his bed and tightly wrapped in his blankets. He was weeping. Moose’s whole body wracked with deep sobs. He was inconsolable; he wouldn’t even let me lie there with him. Moose couldn’t even tell me to leave. He just pointed to the door for me to go. My poor baby.
We didn’t see Moose for nearly two hours. I called him down for dinner, and he trudged down slowly. WineGuy turned things around promising Moose that we would either take him over to Ryan’s house or have Ryan’s parents bring him to The Zone very soon.
Someone broke my baby’s heart today. It was the first time, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. But it hurts my very soul all the same.