School Daze
By Smitty


	"New backpack?"
	"Check."
	"New lunchbox?"
	"Check."
	"New sneakers?"
	"Check."
	"Paper and pencils and all that fun stuff?"
	"Yeah, got it all."
	"Did I remember to dress you?"
	"Don't be gross."
	"Oh, and that frog I pulled out of your pocket last week wasn't?"
	"You didn't even scream," Spud complained, hiking up his jeans.  
"What are you, some mutant girl or something?  I thought all girls 
screamed when they saw frogs." 	
	"You don't know much about girls, do you?" Babs queried.
	Spud screwed up his face.
	"You all set, buddy?" Dick asked, wandering into the kitchen in his 
pajama pants.  He drank deeply from a cup of coffee and leaned in the 
doorframe as though it was any ordinary day.
	"Yup," Spud confirmed for what seemed like the hundredth time.
	"Well, knock 'em dead, slugger."
	Spud gave a little wave and headed out to the driveway where he 
was to catch the bus for the first day of school.  
	"No wonder they say a child's first day of school is the hardest of a 
parent's life," Babs commented, watching from the window.
	"Think of how whacked out we'd be if we'd had him for years 
before today."
	Babs made a face and glanced up at her husband.  "He's going to 
be upset that he can't stay up so late anymore."
	"I know," Dick admitted, resting a comforting hand on Babs' 
shoulder.  "I won't be seeing him nearly as much.  We'll have to make up 
on weekends."
	Babs nodded and patted Dick's hand.  "We'll be ok," she declared, 
turning her attention back to the window.  "Wait—what?  Where'd he go?" 
she asked in a panic, peering from either side of the window frame.  "The 
bus hasn't come yet—"
	"Yo."  Spud barreled into the house, dropping his backpack and 
lunchbox on the floor on his way down the back hallway.  "Gotta take a 
whiz."
	"Spud, you'll be late!" Babs called too late, as the bus pulled up in 
front of their house and continued on its route.
	"Spud!" Dick roared from the front hall.  "You missed the bus!"
	"Sorry," Spud shrugged, pulling his zipper up as he reappeared.  
"When you gotta go, you gotta go."


	Barbara grinned to herself as she set out two chocolate-chip 
cookies and a medium-sized glass of milk.  Her first afterschool snack as a 
mother.  She briefly considered taking a picture.	
	WHAM!
	"Spud, is that you?" she called, as if it could be anyone else.
	"No!" he replied rudely.
	She wheeled out of the kitchen in time to hear the door to his room 
slam.  Here we go again, she thought with a sigh.  She wheeled down the 
hall and tentatively knocked on Spud's door.
	"Spud?  Can I come in?"
	"No!"
	"Why not?"
	Silence.
	"Doing drugs in there?  Performing animal sacrifice?  Starting 
small brush fires?"
	A small sound that might have been a stifled giggle sounded from 
behind the door.
	"C'mon," she cajoled.  "Let me in and maybe we won't have to tell 
Dick about how the door accidentally slammed shut."
	There was a long pause before a reluctant, "Okay," sounded.
	Babs waited, but he didn't come to the door, so she opened it 
herself.  Spud's new school gear was dumped in a pile on the floor and 
Spud himself was scrunched up on the bed.
	"Hey," she asked, coming into the room.  "What's the matter?"  As 
she edged up to the bed, she saw the rip in his new backpack and the 
crayon scribbles across the popular character decorating the bag. "What 
happened to your backpack?" she asked, picking it up and examining the 
damage.
	"Nuttin'!"
	"How did it get ripped?"
	Spud didn't answer.
	"You know," Babs said, studying the rip.  "Kids used to pick on 
me when I was in school."  She waited for a reaction but didn't get one.  
"They used to call me 'Four-Eyes' because I wore glasses and I always 
knew all the answers."  She looked curiously at Spud but he didn't move 
other than the faintest tremble along his shoulders.  "I have a magic trick 
that will make all the crayon scribbles go away," she prodded.  "You want 
to help?"
	"No."
	"Well, that's too bad, because I have cookies waiting for you in the 
kitchen and they're going to get cold if they have to sit there much longer."
	Spud peered over his shoulder and Babs caught sight of a bruise 
forming on his chin and teary eyes.
	"What happened?" she asked, dropping the bookbag and reaching 
to turn his face toward her.
	"Nothing."
	"Nothing gave you that bump?"  Babs ran gentle fingers over the 
abraded skin.
	"The bus was crowded and I fell down."
	Babs frowned.  "Well, let's go get you cleaned up and we'll see 
what we can do about another way to get home from school.  Come on!"  
She hustled him off the bed and out of the room, following with the 
backpack.  "Bathroom first," she instructed, steering him into the small, 
bright room to dab antibiotic ointment on his chin.
	"Do you really know magic?" Spud queried, trailing her to the 
kitchen.
	Babs was at a loss until she remembered promising to show him a 
magic trick to clean up his backpack.  "Sure do," she confirmed.  "Go get 
me the Glassex from the cleanup cabinet."
	Spud complied as she settled the backpack on a low counter and 
tore off a piece of paper towel.  When Spud returned, she spritzed the 
crayon stains with the glass cleaner and rubbed at them with the paper 
towel.
	"See?  Good as new," she pronounced.
	Spud's face lit up, then drooped a little.
	"It's still ripped," he pointed out.
	"Well, we can fix that, too," Babs promised.  She sent Spud 
scrambling to her workroom for electrical tape and then let him watch her 
work as he ate his snack.
	"Are you gonna tell Dick?" Spud asked around a cookie as she tore 
off a strip of tape and centered it over the rip.
	"Am I gonna tell Dick what?"
	"That I slammed the door."
	Babs pretended to think.
	"And that I got my new backpack messed up and fell down on the 
bus…"  Spud said the last few meekly, his words trailing off uncertainly.
	"Maybe we could just tell him you had a bad day," Babs suggested.  
"How's that?"
	Spud nodded eagerly, looking a little better.
	"There you go," Babs declared, smoothing a wrinkle out of the 
tape.  "Good as new.  Almost, at least."
	"Thank you!" Spud exclaimed, jumping up to examine her 
handiwork.
	"You're welcome."  Babs smiled at Spud's scrutiny of his backpack 
when she heard the front door open.
	"Hey, anyone around this place?" Dick yelled.
	Spud took off, with Babs close on his heels.
	"Hey, you two," she greeted Dick and Filb as Spud ambushed 
Dick.
	"We stopped by to see how the first day of school went," Filb 
explained, as Dick casually flipped Spud upside-down and dangled him by 
his feet.
	Babs exchanged a glance with her inverted foster son.  "I think," 
she said carefully, "it's going to be a great learning experience."