When my attention sprang into action, it was at the phrase "...and so I put a note in her mailbox."
Me: Back up sweetie, what mailbox, and to whom did it belong? (like I really talk that way)
Isabella: The school counselor. She comes by our class, and she said if we have anything we need to talk about, we can write a note and put it in her little blue mailbox. So I wrote her a note.
Me: Aha. What did you need to talk about? What did your note say? (please not anything weird, please not anything wacky) (Excuse my panic, but Isabella once told a friend this little tidbit "My Mommy and Daddy always shower together." Given that I had a 5 year old, 3 year old twins, and was 6 months pregnant at the time... well, that was a large bit of fabrication, right? I tell you, the girl must be supervised, when she is in a confiding mood.)
Isabella: Well, my note said "I miss Jadyn."
Me: (with great relief and shiny eyes) Oh. Oh. You sweetheart, I'm so sorry you are lonely for Jadyn. What did the counselor tell you? (Both of the girls have been doing great in separate classes, and were *to my unskilled knowledge* doing fine. :))
Isabella: She told me to come talk to her when I felt lonely.
Me: Hmm. That sounds good.
And that concluded episode one of Counselor Talk.
Two days later, she was back with more news.
Isabella: I went to talk with the counselor today. I put a note in her box again, and she called me to come talk to her.
Me: Oh, how 'bout that. What did you talk about?
Isabella: My note said "I am having trouble with subtraction." And the counselor said that we could work on it together.
Me: You and I? She said you needed to work on it more at home? (giggly and slightly confused, since again to my *unskilled knowledge* math is going fine.)
Isabella: No, she meant her. She said she could work on subtraction with me. In her office.
At this point a small lightbulb went off in my head. Yes, yes, accompanied by a guilty feeling for the children who actually need the counselor's help. But the lightbulb, as you parents with children who have the Dreaded Homework each night know... (and don't even get me started on juggling this hot four-headed mess during HW time.)
Well. Let's just say that this counselor may become my new best friend.
I mean Isabella's New. Best. Friend.
I'd say they are already on their way, right? And what's a little HW help between friends!
Are you with me?