Some Days Are Like That

Edie awoke to the pitter patter of raindrops on the roof. She yawned, stretched, and rolled over. As she drifted back to sleep, she could hear her baby brother, Whit, crying from down the hall.

A few moments later, or so it seemed, Edie’s mother burst into her room. 

“Oh no, you’re not up yet? Edie, we’re late. You’ve got to wake up!” 

Her mother gently shook Edie’s shoulder. Edie opened her eyes and smiled.

“Good morning, mommy,” she said.

“Honey, you need to get ready. Whit is sick, so I can’t drive you to school today. You have to get on the bus in 15 minutes,” her mother said.

Edie jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. She peed, washed her hands, brushed her teeth, and ran a comb through her curls. Back in her room, she was happy to see her rainbow striped dress hanging in her closet. Standing on tiptoe, she stretched as far as her arms would reach, to grab it. Edie took off her nightgown and slipped the rainbow dress over her head. She pulled on a pair of polka dot leggings and blue socks, then twirled as she checked herself out in the mirror. Satisfied, she hopped down the stairs and raced to the kitchen.

Edie had just sat down at the table when her mom pushed a bowl of O’s in front of her. Edie could see that milk had already been poured in the bowl. She made a face.

“Sorry. Dad ate the last bowl of Cinnamon Squares, and cereal is all we have time for,” her mom explained.

Edie was more disgusted by the milk in the bowl than by the type of cereal. Milk made the cereal soggy and bloated, and Edie didn’t like how it mushed when she chewed it. She knew better than to complain, so she took a deep breath and skimmed the O’s off the top. Those ones would at least have some crunch left.

“5 minutes, Edie,” her mom called.

Edie cleared her nearly full bowl from the table and set it next to the sink. Her tummy was still hungry, but she’d have to wait until snack time. She grabbed her lunch box, tossed her sneakers into her backpack, and stepped into her rain boots. She pushed her arms through her rain coat, gave her mom a kiss, and hugging her lunchbox, ran out the door. 

The other children were already lining up to get on when Edie arrived at the bus stop. She was the last one to climb the giant steps, and the driver closed the door behind her. She slowly made her way down the aisle, scanning faces as she walked. She was looking for her neighbor, Felix. They always sat together when she rode the bus.

“Felix isn’t here today,” someone called to Edie.

She felt panicked, and sat down in the first open seat she could find. She scooted all the way to the window, then rested her head against the cool glass. Edie didn’t like riding the bus. It was noisy, and it always smelled like a combination of feet and wet dog. Her belly grumbled with hunger, then churned from the stink. Children got on the bus at each stop, but no one chose to sit with Edie. 

The bus finally pulled into its parking space in front of the school. The children all stood up and moved single file down the aisle. Edie hugged her lunchbox to her chest as she descended the giant bus steps.

Her rain boot got caught on the grooves of the bottom step. She lost her footing while trying to free it, and tumbled to the ground.

Edie landed with a splash, on her knees, in a puddle. There were gasps and giggles as she stood up, her dress dripping brown puddle water, leggings torn, and knees bleeding.

“Go to the nurse’s office. She’ll clean you up,” the bus duty teacher instructed.

Tears trickled down Edie’s cheek as she shuffled down to the nurse’s office. Edie wiped her eyes and opened the door.

“I fell and I’m all dirty,” she mumbled to Ms. Rosen, the nurse.

“Oh dear. Let’s get you some dry clothes and then we’ll clean up those scrapes,” Ms. Rosen said.

She opened a cabinet door and pulled out a pair of brown sweatpants, a shirt with construction vehicles printed across the front, and a threadbare pair of socks.

“I’m a little low on inventory, but at least these will be dry,” Ms. Rosen said.

She handed Edie the pile of clothing and guided her to the bathroom. Edie took the clothes reluctantly and went in to change.

The sweatpants ballooned over her legs, and the shirt fit more like a dress. Edie liked the construction vehicles, but she wished the arms weren’t so long. She had to fold them over 3 times so they wouldn’t be in the way. The socks had lost their stretch long ago, and the seams felt rough against her toes. Edie knew she looked ridiculous, but there wasn’t much to be done about it. Ms. Rosen was waiting for her with band aids and antiseptic wipes when she opened the door.

“Let’s take a look at those knees,” she said, motioning for Edie to sit on a hard plastic chair.

Edie sat and rolled her pant legs up over her knees. The skin on both was angry and raw. She winced as Ms. Rosen patted them with the wipes, then applied the bandages.

“All set. Just give this note to your teacher, so she knows why you’re late. Oh, and let’s put your wet clothes in a plastic bag,” Ms. Rosen said, as she sent Edie on her way.

Edie put her backpack on her back, held her lunchbox in one hand, and the note and plastic bag in the other. She walked slowly to her locker, and took her time putting things away. She dreaded the moment she would have to open the door and all her classmates would look at her.

Once Edie had changed from her rain boots to her sneakers, she searched every pocket of her backpack for the granola bar she was supposed to have for snack. It didn’t seem to be anywhere. Edie wasn’t sure if she had forgotten it, or if it had fallen out during her accident. She shrugged, stuffed her backpack into her locker, and closed it. Her teacher always had extra graham crackers for those who forgot a snack.

Edie took a deep breath before turning the handle on her classroom door. She could feel twenty sets of eyes on her as she stepped into the room. 

“Edie, glad you’re here. We’re just about to start our morning meeting,” her teacher said.

Edie handed him the note from the nurse, then turned and walked to her table. There were a few snickers as she got settled, but she ignored them. She knew that after morning meeting would come math, and then snack. Her mouth watered as she thought about the graham crackers, and her stomach growled so loudly that it was hard to pay attention to anything. When it was finally time for snack, she rushed to get a packet of graham crackers from the snack basket. She reached in and pulled out… a packet of saltines. She peered into the basket and saw that it was full of only saltine crackers. Her teacher must have run out of grahams.

Edie sat at her table and stared out the window as she nibbled on the dry, flavorless saltines. It was better than nothing, but not by much. Rain was still sprinkling down, and Edie could see that the playground was covered in puddles. She knew this meant that they wouldn’t get to go outside for recess. Edie loved to play in the rain, but it wasn’t allowed at school.

A robin swooped down and landed in one of the puddles. Edie watched as the robin dipped its head in the water, then shimmied as droplets rolled off its back. She longed to be out there with the bird, splashing in puddles and eating worms. Okay, maybe she didn’t actually want to eat worms. That was just the hunger talking. She really would prefer stomping in puddles to sitting in a classroom, though.

Time seemed to crawl for the rest of the morning. Edie felt sleepy during the science lesson. She wished the robin would come back to play in the puddle, so she would have something interesting to watch. The class was supposed to be learning about trees, but Edie knew the best way to learn about trees was to climb them. Worksheets and lectures were boring, while real life trees were fascinating.

At last, it was time for lunch. The teacher excused the class to the lunchroom. Edie stopped at her locker and grabbed her lunchbox. She couldn’t wait to bite into the ooey, gooey peanut butter and jelly sandwich that was waiting for her.

She found a seat at an empty table and opened the lid on her lunchbox. She picked up the sandwich and was about to take a bite when she noticed it wasn’t peanut butter and jelly. Tucked inside the bread was roast beef, cheddar cheese, and green pepper. Edie’s mom had accidentally packed her dad’s food in her lunchbox.

Edie sighed. Today was just not her day. She examined the other compartments in her lunchbox to see if anything else was edible. She found an orange, carrots and ranch dip, and salt and vinegar potato chips. Edie ate the bread off the sandwich, the carrots without the ranch dip, and the orange. She washed it down with a carton of chocolate milk. 

Edie somehow managed to get through the rest of the school day without any other major mishaps. The sun was shining as she got on the bus to go home, and the clouds that had been hanging over her head seemed to have vanished.

Edie’s mom, her baby brother, Whit, and the smell of homemade chicken noodle soup greeted her at the door. Edie was wrapped in a tight hug as she told her mom all about her run of bad luck.

“It sounds like you had a rough morning. Some days are like that, but I’m proud of you. Even when things weren’t going right, you made the best of it. You tried to find solutions to your problems, instead of letting them take over,” her mom said.

Edie was certain her luck had changed when she sat down to a steaming bowl of soup. Her mother’s cooking would warm her belly, like her words had warmed her heart.