Last night we scoured Target’s empty shelves for any trace of #2 pencils and pink erasers. Just as I was chiding Mike for not having taken care of this earlier, Nathan’s teacher walked by us. Not awkward at all! My smile backpedaling through what she must have heard–a woman on the edge who was about to see her firstborn enter school.
The dropoff this morning was less dramatic. Nathan walked in and a little girl greeted him immediately with, “Are you my new friend?” He was instantly enamored with the colors around the room and the amount of play dough on the table.
We watched him move around, settle with a puzzle, pick up pieces and yell out each letter like he had solved some great mystery like what happened to Jimmy Hoffa or Amelia Earhart or mommy’s youthful glow. Answer to the third puzzle: TWO KIDS. Case closed!
I didn’t cry in that room because the only tissue around was what we had donated to the classroom supplies, though I was tempted since classroom butcher paper isn’t absorbent at all. I only got teary back in the car when I thought about what Nathan would see in his lunchbox, how he wouldn’t have to struggle opening his sandwich bag because I left the corner unsealed or he wouldn’t have trouble with his juicebox because I took the straw out of the plastic and maybe he’ll read the note I left for him and know that his mother really means it when she says, “Have a great day.”