Willa was in the middle of fourth grade when we left San Francisco to move to Perth two months ago. Due to strict age requirements in Western Australia public schools, Willa is now the youngest child in fifth grade. Year Five, Mom. Room 14 is a mixed fifth/sixth grade class. When I learned my stuffed-animal-loving daughter would now be hanging out with sixth graders, I assumed she’d be smoking and stealing cars within the month.
Ten and eleven-year olds in Perth carry their own money, and ride their bikes to the IGA after school to buy Samboy Chips and Tim Tams. Thankfully, they look like kids. They’re delightfully awkward and messy, they’re complaining about their heavy backpacks, and they’re buying the most disgusting looking candy. Did you know that Nerds come in rope form? Empty six boxes of Nerds, stuff them through a giant straw, and wait for them to harden.
When I was in fifth grade, every Wednesday after school I had Hebrew School, a.k.a. Bat Mitzvah Boot Camp. I’d walk down to the corner of 19th and Eucalyptus and take the 28 Bus to Geary and Park Presidio. Hebrew School was conveniently located around the corner from a 7-Eleven. Before class, I’d use my allowance to buy Lemonheads, Alexander the Grapes, and Fun Dip. I’d wash it all down with a Cherry Slurpee. It’s really hideous when you think about it. It would have been healthier for me at that age to pick up a pack of Marlboro Lights.
Needless to say, my sugar rush and subsequent crash caused me to doze off quite a bit between Torah readings. After class, I’d run up to House of Bagels to wait for the owner to tie his day-old onion flats and bagels in large plastic bags and toss them through the window where they’d land in the dumpster. Yes, after Hebrew School I’d go dumpster diving. But they were rescue bagels and they needed me. I loved coming home and proudly flinging down four bags of bagels on the kitchen counter. My family would shake their heads in disbelief but I knew they were delighted. Free bagels. Best. Jew. Ever.
Today, Willa participated in her first swim meet, mandatory for all kids her age. I wasn’t sure she knew what a swim meet was. My advice to her was, “when you hear a buzzer, dive in and swim as fast as you can.” When I showed up this morning to watch her race in the outdoor Olympic-sized pool, she was huddled with her friends, giggling. And eating candy. She did great.
