bag as big as he
full future in empty pack
and the day is nigh
Three weeks from today the wee one will almost be finished with his first week of school.
For a while now, I’ve been brazenly talking of the sheer joy I will feel when letting him loose on some unsuspecting teacher. But, you know, that was all talk. Sure it will be nice to have a quiet-ish house while he’s away filling his brain with new curse words and maybe the alphabet, but I’m kind of starting to dread it.
I’m as shocked as you are!
For months I’ve been thinking I should throw a party when school starts. A "call a babysitter for the younger siblings, mamas get together and drink margaritas in the morning SHEW school has finally started" blowout.
But now I don’t know. I may be a little sad for a few days. I’m thrilled that I’ll have some free time, and the wee one will have new friends, and all will be right with the world. But I’m still backing off on all that earlier bravado. I’m really going to miss the little bugger. There will be someone else hearing all of his hilarious chatter throughout the day – someone else to answer those brain-forming, personality-encouraging questions. There will be outside influences I can’t control. There will be learning and growing and over-the-head-ding-ding-ding brainwave light bulbs that I won’t get to see. I’m already jealous of his teacher and we haven’t even met her yet.
It’s school! Real school! With rules and forms and dress codes and tardy bells and mystery meat and bus stops and bullies and best friends and broken hearts and revelations. Real school. And it’s here in about two weeks. I’m stunned. Shocked. Amazed. Embarrassed by the cliches I constantly spout about time moving fast.
Kindergarten. Her siren call is thrilling… and unavoidable.
Oh, I hope he loves it as much as I did.