May 24th Pizza Party Day—Bring your Favorite Pizza Topping
May 28th National Flip-Flop Day
The activities sounded so fun! Palmer could almost picture herself dancing around the classroom like a chicken or letting Beau dress her in crazy socks. But when her eyes reached the last date on the page, her stomach twisted suddenly.May 28th National Flip-Flop Day.
Her chest tightened and anxiety climbed its way up her spine. Palmer picked up a black crayon from the table. She leaned over the sheet and scribbled thickly across the words on her paper until they were illegible.There, that’s better!Palmer stood from her chair and quickly found her unicorn backpack onthe hooks. After unzipping it, she shoved the paper inside, closed her bag and rushed back to her friends.
Chapter Fifteen
Beau sat two plates on the small kitchen table. The smell of cinnamon and apples filled the space. “Thank you for sharing your apple pie with me, pretty baby.”
Palmer giggled. “I made it for us, Daddy! Of course I’m going to share!”
He chuckled before cutting the small pie down the middle and sliding each half onto a plate. “It smells yummy!”
Palmer picked up her pink plastic spoon and scooped a bit of her pie onto it. “Hmmmmm,” she said after taking a bite. “It tastes yummy too, Daddy.”
Beau took his own bite. “You did excellent! This is delicious,” he praised. He was happy to see her preen a bit, thankful she seemed to be proud of herself. Beau hoped that was a sign her confidence was growing.
“I had fun making it,” Palmer said.
“I could tell. Miss Samantha sent me a picture today. It was of you helping another friend make her own pie.” The picture had made pride swell in his chest. She was such a sweet baby.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, she was sad.”
“Well, I’m proud of you for helping her,” Beau said fondly. “That was very kind.”
Palmer frowned down at her pie like something very troubling was bothering her. “She colored her apple daffodil yellow,” Palmer said.
Beau blinked.
“Daffodil yellow,” she repeated, shaking her head. Her red curls swung with the movement.
Trying very hard to support her obvious concern, Beau nodded gravely.
“Well,” he struggled, “that is a very unusual color for an apple.”
Palmer sighed like her world was ending.
“Apples are red or green, maybe pink sometimes.”
Beau considered her words carefully. Deciding he’d found a teachable moment, he spoke carefully, “Well, apples areusuallythose colors.”
Palmer looked up at him, confused. “Usually? Apples are always those colors.”
“Sometimes people like to color things differently,” Beau explained. “It doesn’t mean it’s wrong. It just means they’re using their imagination and that’s okay.”
Palmer frowned a little, still looking unsure. “But apples aren’t yellow.”
“That’s what many people believe if they’ve not ever seen one in real life,” Beau said still trying to be supportive. “But when you’re drawing or coloring, you don’t always have to follow the rules.”
Palmer picked at her pie with her spoon while she thought about that. “You mean… she didn’t do it wrong?”
“No, pretty baby, there are several varieties of yellow apples” Beau said, shaking his head. “In coloring—and in life—sometimes there isn’t a right or wrong way to do something, just a different way.”
Palmer tapped her chin as she thought.
“Sometimes the best ideas come from people who don’t follow the rules exactly. Maybe she wanted a sunshine-colored apple,” Beau suggested.
