That's why I can not get this story out of my head:
At school they have a fleece jacket that can be worn as part of the daily uniform. Spence loves his fleece. Mainly, because he can take it off when he gets hot without messing up his hair (his hair which some of the Kindergarten girls tell him they like. :-/ ), unlike the sweatshirt.
Well, our fleece went missing a week ago (spoiler alert: it was in the hamper) and, after much searching (everywhere but the hamper) we couldn't find it anywhere. One morning we were standing in the hallway putting our stuff away in our cubby when my friend Amy came out of her son's classroom across the hall. I thought she might be standing near the "Lost and Found" box and asked her if she saw it. She said she did and I asked if our fleece was in it. She said no, just a jacket. I said, "No worries. It's got a tag in it that says 'Johnson'. If someone finds it, I'm sure they'll return it."
At this point, Spencer looks at her with all the seriousness a six-year-old can muster and says, "It's J-O-H-N-S-O-N." He said it very skeptically, too, like he had assessed the situation, determined that Amy might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, and may need a little help knowing what exactly she was supposed to be looking for in that "Lost and Found" box.
Amy and I now greet each other with "It's J-O-H-N-S-O-N." And, at a birthday party this past weekend, Amy came over and told me J-O-H-N-S-O-N was sitting by her daughter, R-E-A-G-A-N. (I bet Reagan likes his hair...).
The beloved fleece. And, oh!, that hair! ;)