Home, 2026
It was “Favorites Day” at school— wear your favorite clothes, bring your favorite snack, share your favorite toy for show-and-tell.
That morning, Avery picked out his favorite Mickey Mouse sweater with matching Mickey Mouse pants, and red shoes that complimented his hair and cheeks. Downstairs, he rummaged the cabinet for applesauce, crackers, and strawberry bars for snacks. Then he picked out his favorite toy—today, a stuffed animal in the shape of a purple-and-teal snail. As we walked to school, he carried it proudly.
“His name is Snail-or-Worm,” he told me with a grin. But when we arrived at school, he saw his classmates carrying toy cars, action figures, and dinosaurs. His face fell.
“It’s not stuffed-animal day,” he said.
“Stuffed animals are toys,” I tried, but he placed Snail-or-Worm back in the stroller beside his baby sister and began to cry. Not enough that his teachers or friends could see, but plainly to me.
“What toy would you like instead?” I asked. “I can bring it to you.”
But he couldn’t answer.
“Toys are something from the toy box.” He said at last, his face hardening against the sadness inside.
Then he turned his back on Snail-or-Worm and headed to his classroom without a toy for show-and-tell.
~
“What do I do?” I asked Dani over the phone while walking home.
She had an idea. A few minutes later she texted me a list.
I ran through Avery’s room collecting toys. Five minutes later I had a bag slung over my shoulder and was riding my bike back to the school office.
His teacher brought him out to meet me. He looked small, quiet, and unsure.
“Hey,” I said, opening the bag. “Would you like one of these for show-and-tell?”
He peered inside. Hesitant at first, then with growing excitement he reached in and pulled out a plastic pig from the pumpkin patch last fall.
He squeezed it, and the pig oinked.
The smile on Avery’s face lit the room.
