3.14




3.14
-Laurie Benson 2019


Him-"Happy Pi Day, momma.
Love you!"
Me-"What a weird and fun
thing to wish your mamma!
We should get pie
together!"
Him-"I would love to.
Can I meet you at like
6:15?"


Back and forth 
texting from my son
who had also been 
my student,
in a school
class of sixth graders
long ago.
I was his teacher-momma,
and sometimes at home
he would forget and
call me, Mrs. B, and
at times in school,
he would call me
mamma, and the kids
would laugh
even though at
times,
they called me that
as well.
All school children
do.


Pi Day is all about
circles, and formulas.
And circles are all
about life
and time.
Formulas are the places
where I get stuck.


3.14. So 3 and a
little bit more.
People,
Places,
Things.
That's three, but
what's the little bit,
the little bit more?
The bit of
discontent?


We met, we talked
about it, the
discontent.  But also,
the contentment and
commitment that was
new for us.


I told him, "I don't
know what to do, and
I don't think there's
anyone who can help me,"
as I described a girl
this year in school,
so unruly, so broken,
so annoying.


"One of those things is
true," he said, but
there's nothing you can
do about an annoying
girl.


So which one is true?
The "I don't know what to do?"
or
The "I don't think anyone
can help me?"


For now, I'll just keep
saying, "I don't know
what to do," and feel how
scary and unfamiliar that
feels.


Then my teacher-son,
the one with the wisdom
and some damn good
formulas,
hugged me good-bye.
We had our meal,
we ate no pie.


It didn't matter.  It
was Pi Day still
celebrated with circles.
Student-mamma,
Teacher-son.

Photo by Jodie Morgan on Unsplash

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