The suggestion that my son has “social issues”
comes from the mouth of a first grade teacher
who says my child stumbles up a steep rocky hill at recess
alone instead of playing statues or rhythmically pumping a swing.
He told me he’s training to climb the Massanutten.
“What?” her eye-roll shows white.
I nod at the window, point past the slide
“It’s that mountain over there.”
I never took off my jacket
so there’s no awkward pause to put it on.
I rise and take my son’s still soft hand,
pass the cubbies, leave the room,
walk up the hallway ramp.