My Brother the Broth'ah

My New York brother came to visit a few weeks back, so I decided to take a day off to go spend some quality time in Idaho Falls with the newly-NFL-promoted, 1 1/2 Masters-degree-holding punk. It was a great trip, except for twin spring blizzards Mother Nature sent in her continuing quest to squash me, and the group of devastated, broken-hearted kidlets I left behind.
The kidlets weren't devastated and broken-hearted because I was leaving them. No, they were devastated because my New York brother wasn't making the trek to our cute little cowtown to visit them. They felt betrayed and abandoned because, in their cute little brains, my New York brother is one of their closest friends.

You see, New York brother, a.k.a. Moose, a.k.a. Spencer, has been the main character in more than a few of the stories that I have told the kidlets over course of the school year and they felt a deep connection with the various hilarious choices he made once upon a time.



Plus, he sent them presents.

Spencer, and his lovely super-hero of a wife sent the kids some autographed Bills stuff to use as prizes for the school's Accelerated Reader Challenge.

Please keep in mind that junior high kids are willing to pledge their undying love and loyalty to anyone who can 1) remember their name 2) listen to what they did after school yesterday, and 3) give them a piece of gum.

What Spencer and Briana sent was a heck of a lot better than gum. So for these kids who haven't attended and might never attend an actual NFL game, Spence sending them an autographed jersey was like Spence giving them one of his kidneys. They just couldn't understand why someone who cared about them sooooooo much wouldn't make the hour and forty-five minute drive to share a tray of super nachos with them in the lunchroom.

I had a really nice visit with my little bro, despite the homicidal weather, and didn't want to survive the white-knuckle drive home only to return to 120 bitter tweenagers. I needed a brilliant plan and, lucky for me, I had unknowingly been laying the groundwork for just such a scheme.

Way back in October, I had shown the kidlets this official Bills popcorn bucket. See that torso? That is my New York brother who was asked to stand in for a missing player during the publicity photo shoot.

In December, I had shown them this photo from a Buffalo newspaper and said, "Look at this cool photo Moose!" Of course, it was the day of finals and I was in a hurry to get them started on their tests, so I didn't take the time to point out that Moose was the Caucasian guy in the back. That omission of contextual details, combined with the popcorn bucket, may have given the kids a flawed idea of what their beloved Moose looked like.

So when this super-sized member of the local junior college basketball team came to visit the school, I just kept my mouth shut. He got some extra adoration, and the kidlet's world was set right again. It seemed like the kind thing to do.

Plus, it would have taken a long time to explain why their assumptions about Spencer were incorrect, especially when you consider this conversation I had with one of my 3rd hour kidlets last week...

Miss H: So, now that we have read stories about Cinderella-like characters from other parts of the world, today we are going to read a story about a Caucasian Cinderella.

3rd Hour Kidlet: Miss H, what does Caucasian mean?

Miss H: It means someone of European descent.

3rd Hour Kidlet: Huh?

Miss H: It means a white person.

3rd Hour Kidlet: Oh. I always thought it meant a roster from China.

Miss H: ....Silence....

But don't worry, this same kidlet totally rocked his ISAT, so he did learn something this year. But he will be really surprised if Spencer ever really did come visit...