Ryan pulled me aside the other night, while I was making dinner.
He does this alot these days, and I have to stop and listen, or risk offending him as he is telling me snippets from his day. In a stream-of-consciousness kind of way, so I have to pay attention.
Usually, it's about what went on in his classroom; what was for lunch (and how he didn't eat it, but ate "crackers"--I don't even want to know what that truly means, I am just gonna call it even that he ate);who got in trouble/and why; that kind of thing.
I'm puzzled, this time, though, because he's pulling me way aside, and whispering.
"Mommy, do you know how you came into my class today?"
"Yes." I'm thinking we're gonna have a huggy, thanks-for-coming moment here.
"Well, from now on when you come into my classroom, would you please not call me "Sugar" and call me Ryan?"
Guess I'm not having a huggy-moment.
"I did call you Ryan."
"No, you called me Sugar. And a kid, he made fun of me. He said "Ryan" and when I looked at him, pointed at me and called me "sug-ar". I don't want anyone making fun of me, so remember, call me Ryan. You can still call me Sugar at home."
Awww. He's killing me, he's so serious, so cute.
"Okay, I'll try. I promise to try."
Ryan. Ryan. Ryan, I say to myself the next time I come to class. And I bite back the syllable "sug" the second I see him. "Sug- I mean, Ryan." (I whispered in his ear, 'Sorry. I goofed.')
I knew this day would come, just like Ben-Ben ran it's course.
I remember why I call him "Sugar" in the first place. He was three months old, his first Christmas, all roly-poly and just beginning to show us more personality. I started calling him my little sugarplum, and it got shortened over time to "Sugar." We all loved it, he was a sweet baby and it suited him. Not to mention how much my husband's Southern relatives loved it too.
Tomorrow, I have to go to the school, and I'll probably be in Ryan's class at some point.
I wonder if he'd be put off if I asked him to wear a nametag?
Because he's always going to be Sugar to me.