Well, we got no class
And we got no principles
And we got no innocence
We can't even think of a word that rhymes...
School's out for summer
School's out forever
School's been blown to pieces
--Alice Cooper
Hey Jakey,
Wednesday was your last day of school, and the parents were invited to class to see all of you get certificates and to eat some snacks. You got a certificate for "Busiest Bee." I don't know if your ranking as Busiest Bee has anything to do with the fact that Ms. S will not be returning to teach the preschool class next year. Heh.
I did not see the mother who lives down the street there with her son, and I was hoping to maybe get to chat with her. Oh well. It was fun, and I really love getting to see you in the classroom setting doing classroom stuff. I was taken aback, however, by how small you are compared to some of the other kids. Some of them looked like varsity linebackers. I was indescribably pleased to see that you were not the most ill-behaved child in your class. At least not on this day.
You took a few of your own snapshots:
I was right. Every other mom brought some kind of sweet or dessert, and ours was the sole savory dish, a bland concoction of cream cheese, Velveeta slices and turkey lunchmeat. The kids ate 'em all up, though, and they garnered many "Awww! Cute!"s:
Now we must find ways to keep you busy and make sure you don't lose everything you learned over the past few months. Taking the XBox out to the dump is a good start.
Love you, stay smart.
PS: Okay, this is where I break down and admit that I teared up a little as I watched you guys singing your little songs and doing your little dances before the certificate "ceremony." Just seeing you doing everything else that everyone was doing, when and how you were supposed to, and happy to be doing it, made me want to jump over all the other moms and shove all the other kids out of the way and give you a big hug. It's been a long, hard road to get here, and you will always be momma's favorite Little Engine That Could.
2 comments:
Dude! I found a ring. Was the ring you lost aeons ago at the SF apartment an amethyst? Did it have huge prongs, or was it in a different kind of setting?
Dude! Email sent. My mother asks me about that damn thing every once in a while, and I've been employing major misdirection tactics for 15 years now.
Mom: "How come you never wear that ring I gave you for graduation? My mother gave that to me when *I* graduated."
Me: "Where are you taking us for dinner tonight?"
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