So, we are in the car coming home from school on Wednesday.
And Son (#1) - he sits in the front with me - said, "I'm running for Stuco."
"Great," I said. "What office?"
"President," he said.
"Great," I said. "How long do you have to campaign?"
"We vote tomorrow," he said.
Nothing like telling me at the last minute!
He then proceeded to explain (if less than 10 words can explain anything) that he won't win, so-and-so has all of the votes, but that's OK. He just ran for fun and it would be OK if he just got VP or some other office.
I'm so proud.
Fast forward to yesterday, on my way to school, Granddad called from Mexico.
(No, my parents don't live in Mexico, they just go there often.
Like this week.
When it's freezing cold here.
So that my mom can call and say, "I really wish I'd brought more clothes for hot weather.")
And Granddad proceeded to tell me that he was so proud of Son (#1).
"Yeah, me too," I said. "That science project was a challenge. And a B+ with a Second Place ribbon was awesome."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," he said, "I thought you already knew he was elected 7th grade class president today."
Turns out my father-in-law (who teaches Son's government class) called my dad to give him the news.
The story goes that the two other candidates got up for their speeches and promised longer recess, shorter school days, longer lunch period, etc. And my son got up there and said he couldn't promise any of that, because the class president doesn't have the authority to change any of those things. But that he was grateful to be part of this 6th grade class and he would be honored to represent it next year as a 7th grader. Then he sat down.
And he won.
I'm so proud.
Proud of him for his leadership in his class, for his honestly, integrity, for his humility.
He's quite a kid.
And maybe next time I won't have to hear about it from Mexico!