I’m hoping this is a tantrum-free confetti-day, not a thundercloud one

It’s part of my routine already. I stand outside my building, waiting for the school bus with a prayer on my lips.

“Hashem, please help him come home in a good mood.”

The cranes and tractors doing construction work on the street keep me company, their rumbling and grumbling a familiar soundtrack to my day.

I’m playing with the orange tape blocking off the construction site when the school bus pulls up. I’m holding my breath. Well, my entire afternoon depends on his mood.

“Helllloooo, tzaddikel.” I reach for him, patting his head as he gets off the bus steps. Relief rushes over me — no sign he napped on the bus. Thank You, Hashem. (You all know what a 4 p.m. nap does to bedtime.)

His eyes are bright, his cheeks flushed, and a little smile is just starting to form as he spots me. A child coming home happy versus grumpy is like a burst of confetti versus a cloud of gloom. And I don’t need to tell you how many hours are in a tantrum-filled hour.

I’m hoping this is a tantrum-free confetti-day, not a thundercloud one.

He’s all of three years old and has a long ride from the cheder home. Plus, Yerushalayim’s traffic and heat don’t perk up anyone’s mood.