We went to my parents' early this week. Or late last. One morning my mother drove us out to a nearby farm for produce -- mostly corn, this time of year -- and on the way back, a 20 minute drive, my son got bored and started playing with his loose tooth. Just as we were pulling on the off-ramp of the highway, he said, all casual-like, "Hey, I just pulled out my tooth!"
And just like that, my baby was gone.
He started kindergarten this morning. He's ready. He's SO ready. He's been waiting for this for a month, he's excited and psyched and so, so pleased to be there. It was just a couple hours, time for a story in story time and some outside play and a snack -- nothing he hadn't done before -- but it was different.
There's just something else that has changed, you know? He wears jeans and huge sneakers and has a new haircut and there's a hole in his mouth. He has homework! (Guess how old the teacher is!) He has a backpack in his cubby for his things.
My baby.
Hard to believe.
Even harder to believe is that I managed not to cry when I left him there for the first time. Really.
1 comment:
Aaaawwww.
It's frightening how fast it happens. I have a 9-year-old. NINE. She can ride a BIKE now. (Although she still prints like a six-year-old. Sigh. I don't know what her Grade 4 teacher is going to make of that...) How did this happen? How??
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