MacArthur had the Philippines, Eisenhower had D-Day. JT has Field Day. The boy prepares for Field Day with the precision of a Field General preparing for a full-scale invasion. He looks forward to it for the entirety of the school year. In many ways, he's only willing to attend school for the other 9 months because of the promise of Field Day.
The big day was yesterday. But a day like that doesn't just happen. Before the General headed out for a sleepover last weekend, he left me my marching orders. My assignment: pull together the Field Day supplies. Failure was not an option. His parting words to me on Saturday morning weren't words at all. He just tapped the Field Day list and gave me a meaningful look. I knew what to do.
I secured the Field Day supplies and the General headed off for the day filled with excitement and pride about his impressive supply line.
I walked over to the field at mid-day to see how things were going. There were laughing, busy kids. That's what you want in your Field Day.
And he came back in the afternoon sufficiently sweaty and full of stories about the day.
At bedtime, freshly washed and in clean pajamas, he snuggled under the blanket and announced, "I'm pooped." That's what you call a Field Day success.