Hazel - First Day of School

School started differently at the Albright house. While most kids were being rushed off for their first day, parents standing outside schoolhouses and tearfully waving goodbye, our kids were at home in the garden, trying to coax a bunny out of its hidy hole. I watched from the back window of the apothecary as the twins rolled around in the dirt, covered in early morning mist. The bunny in question was a brown, loppy eared one that Milo had managed to find and gave to them. They had named the bunny sir hops a lot and I was almost terrified of anything happening to the fluffy creature because of the devastation it would leave in its absence.

Behind me, Hazel sauntered up, having just gotten ready for the morning. She leaned her head against my back, kissing me in between the shoulders. “How are we going to bribe them to do school today?” she yawned.

The twins were… exploratory children. There was never any question in either of our minds that they were learning. They could build structures out of materials gathered, knew almost every bug and animal that did and did not roam the Night Market, and could name every star constellation in the sky. So much so, that I had started stitching more across the night just to give them something to do.

Reading and writing were an entirely different question. ‘See Spot Run’ had become a torturous device that neither Hazel nor I could fathom. A book about a puppy should not have caused as much tears as it did, but here we were.

“We could promise to take them down to the creek near the spice district,” I told her.

Hazel scrunched up her nose. “When I was little, we didn’t call that a creek. We called in the sewer run off.”

It once had been a murky little thorough way through the back end of the spice district, smelling vaguely of cardamom and feces. I had forgotten about that until now.  “Why do they want to go there?” I asked.

“Because Milo told them it would give them superpowers.”

“Of course he did.”

A shriek came up from the garden as one of the boys pointed towards the basil plant. “A snake!”

Hazel stood on her tiptoes to look out towards said snake. She had the same excited expression. “That’s a good sign, right? More animals returning?”

I reached down, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. “If the twins have their say, they will attract an entire zoo here.” They had an affinity for animals, those two, and I was certain that they were going to undo any of the damage their mother had done in her youth. “What if we go looking for animals with them?” I asked. “But only if they complete a page of math and a short book.”

“Tried that yesterday. They read me the book they’ve memorized from us reading to them, and they marked down random numbers on their math page.”

They were too smart sometimes for their own good. “Okay, then we rethink how we are teaching them entirely. We make them do animal math.”

“Animal math?”

“We start hiding the chickens and make them find how many chickens we’re missing by using subtraction.”

Hazel burst out into laughter at that, coming around to hop up on the windowsill. Parenting with her had been one of the warmest and most comforting experiences I could ever imagine. Early mornings with the kids running under foot while the fire was being stoked and the stew was brewing. It was never something I imagined for myself in my wildest dreams.

“I actually like this idea. They would do anything for animals. We could do some letter practice by writing about animals. Or we could go on a scavenger hunt where they have to practice their alphabet by finding animals that begin with the letter of the day.”

I raised my brow. I hadn’t actually thought that would work, but she was looking more and more excited about the prospect.

“I could get Mal to paint a few things with them and have him incorporate letters and numbers. He’s better at being sneaky with them.”

“You think it will work?” I asked.

“I think it’s one of the only things we haven’t tried.”

“Mamma! Mamma! A squirrel!”

We looked out the window and out of the bunny hole, did not come the floppy eared bunny, but a tiny squirrel instead. Both twins were looking at us with hopeful eyes, wearing their best angelic expressions.

“Can we keep it?”

Without thinking, I leaned forward. “Yes,” I told them. “If you learn how to spell squirrel and finish an entire book about squirrels.”

“We don’t have books on squirrels,” they protested.

“I’ll go get one today,” Hazel told them. She looked as if she wanted to rush out there because the bunny was now also coming out.

They both stood there, looking at each other as they mulled over the deal. It was apparently a weighty decision. But the squirrel was chittering at their feet, and the bunny seemed to want to snuggle it. They were too much like their mother in this respect, and caved in the face of cute things.

“Deal!” They both yelled.

“Holy shit, it worked,” I muttered.

Hazel was gripping my hand. “We are going to have so many animals.”

“If it gets them to read, that’s fine, right? Bribing is okay in this situation.”

“Of course it is,” she hissed. “It’ll teach them compassion, too.” She swished her hips back and forth a bit in excitement. “We could build a squirrel house. And a bunny hut. And… do we have chipmunks.”

“We need something that starts with ‘c’ so sure.”

She clapped in delight then, hopping off the window sill. “Better get them dressed for the day and get those animal books then.”

“And squirrel food.”

I watched as Hazel went out into the yard, getting on the ground to greet the squirrel with the twins. The three of them gathered around the small animal, cooing at it, and because the animal didn’t know any better, it snuggled up to them.

I had a feeling life was going to get all the more crazy as we continued school.