I will admit, it got dicey when we walked through the "tunnel of hope" created by veterans, law enforcement officers and teachers telling the kids what a great year they were going to have. All those hopeful, shiny-faced kids, all the potential cramming through newly scrubbed halls, just gets to me.
As for The Boy, he was so totally over my camera by the time we left the classroom, his irritation crowded out any other emotion.
He was a little nervous. He was wearing my fretful face as we waited to get into school. "I hope I make friends," he said this morning. But this afternoon, the second thing he said was, "See that boy? That one sitting with his brother? He's my friend. His name is Gavin and he's in my class."
His teacher, he said, deemed their class "her best one ever, EVER, because we were so good." She sent good notes and gummies home with each of them. He wants to buy lunch next week on pizza day. He's looking forward to borrowing books from the library. "And Momma, did you know, Wednesday is GYM!"
We went to Olive Garden at his request to celebrate tonight. On the way home, he was telling how they had to search for the Gingerbread Man after story time and they found it with the help of the "doctor." "Momma, did you know there was a doctor at my school?"
"I figured there'd be a nurse and a ... oh, a ..."
"Yes, that's the word I was looking for."
"I love that you're getting old enough to help when Momma and I can't remember words," Mike said. "You're getting big."
"And we're getting old," I said.
"Yeah!" Beastie piped up from the backseat. "You guys are going to die soon."