Children's laughter and chatter filled the air as they ran around the playground, their voices blending into a lively symphony of youthful energy. A group of third graders, their clothes slightly wrinkled from the morning's lessons, gathered near a tree at the edge of the yard. Among them was Ashton, seated cross-legged on the grass with his lunchbox open on his lap.
Ashton had a peanut butter sandwich in one hand, and with the other, he gestured animatedly as he spoke. His hair was slightly tousled, and his bright eyes sparkled with curiosity. Around him, his friends sat or sprawled out, munching on their lunches and swapping stories about their morning.
"Okay, okay," piped up Olivia, a small girl with pigtails tied neatly with pink ribbons. She adjusted her glasses and pointed a carrot stick at the group. "Who's coming to the parent-teacher meeting next week? My mom said she'll come, but my dad can't because he's working."
