I had plans for yesterday. Yesterday was a writing day, with a teensy bit of Christmas shopping and grocery shopping thrown in too. Or at least that’s the way I intended it. That is not at all how the day played out.

Minutes before I left to take my older son to school, I got a call from my little one’s Mother’s Day Out. (You can see where this is going, right?) The director says to me, ‘I’m calling to see if you would be interested in subbing today in the nursery.’ My mind is suddenly in a whirl. I’d expected my husband or mother-in-law–the only two people who typically call me that early, and my thoughts weren’t clicking through right. Here’s what’s going on in my head:

Would I be interested in subbing? I wouldn’t really classify my decision to volunteer in that way.

The nursery!? With a roomful of babies who don’t know me? I’m already tired.

What about my plans for the day? My writing…

Well, I said okay. And then made a mad dash to get everything ready to go in time to be there at nine, including change my clothes, eat my breakfast, pack my lunch, and get a package ready to deliver. Amazingly, we were on time. Or at least almost.

There were five little toddlers, ranging in age from 12 months to 18 months, and I must admit, I really had a good time. This probably has a lot to do with the fact that they were all such good-spirited, happy babies (and that the real teacher didn’t make me change any diapers). Only a couple of them cried, and only for a few minutes. Mostly they smiled and giggled and danced and played. There was no disciplining and no separating. They all got along, and we spent the morning being silly. Then there was lunch and nap, which lasted about an hour and a half of the five hours. So the real teacher and I sat in the dark, listening to sleepy music and talked about our kids.

And then…before I knew it, it was time to go home. I had time to quick run to the post office before picking up my older son, and my whole day was shot. And at the risk of sounding extremely corny, it was shot through with sunshine from five little angels.

The little event at my son’s school that I mentioned last week as the reason for me missing a morning of writing was actually Mystery Reader Day, and I was escorting the reader. The intent was to invite people with interesting careers in to read a story about their job and answer any questions the kids (first graders) might have. Well, my husband’s job as an environmental engineer isn’t all that thrilling (even he will tell you that), and I’m not currently working…outside the home. I figure stay-at-home moms are pretty devoid of mystery, and I’m not sure I want 6-year-olds asking me what I write about…there could be uncomfortable questions. So, I volunteered someone else: my husband’s childhood friend, who has become a commercial airline pilot. I thought the kids would love that, and they did. Let’s just call the visitor PilotMan.

PilotMan got all dressed up, in full uniform, and brought his flight bag/briefcase/whatever filled with maps and binders and whatnot. None of that stuff ever made it out of the bag. But the uniform got a couple of reactions. As we were walking down the hall to my son’s classroom, a bunch of kids all in a line saw him and said, ‘Whooooa!’. I suppose they could have been talking about me, but I doubt it.

When we got to the classroom, we had a few spare minutes before the kids came in, and let me tell you it was sweltering in there. PilotMan was visibly perspiring but wanted to keep the full effect of his uniform, blazer, hat, and all. And then they started trickling in. One of the first kids to come in asked PilotMan if he was a lawyer (!), but the rest just looked impressed.

Then he introduced himself and read two short stories about airplanes. And then, it was time for questions. It started out tamely enough, with just general comments like ‘I’ve flown on an airplane before’, but then they wanted to know where PilotMan had flown and where different places were. So PilotMan looks at me and says, ‘Alyssa, did you bring that globe?’

I’m sure I shot him a squinty look, thinking, I walked in with you. Did you see me hauling along a globe? Where would I have hidden it. But I suppressed my sarcastic side and just said, ‘Oh, there’s one over there’, pointing across the classroom. Well, let me just say that once the globe was out, the question/answer session was almost rapid-fire.

‘Where’s Bolivia?’

‘Bolivia? I just flew there last week.’ (PilotMan)

‘It’s a long way to Bolivia’ (little girl whose family lives in Bolivia)

‘Where’s Mexico?’

‘Where’s New York?’

…you get the picture.

Then, in the middle of all this, someone says, ‘Where does Elvis live?’ PilotMan looked up and (he told me later) wondered if he should mention anything about Elvis being dead. But before he can decide, another kid pipes up with, ‘Isn’t he dead?’, and another adds, ‘He died in his bathtub, didn’t he?’ Egads! Who is feeding these children this information about Elvis???

Still, despite comments about The King, it went very well, and PilotMan told me he had a good time. He passed out sticky-backed wings for all the kids and the little bags of pretzels they hand out on the airplane. Most of the kids were thrilled with this, but a couple wanted actual wings…the gold kind, like PilotMan had. Oh well…

My son said PilotMan has been his favorite Mystery Reader, despite the FBI agent who staged a little mystery, complete with fingerprinting, and the Marine Biologist who brought in a turtle. High praise indeed! It was totally worth a missed morning of writing.