In which the boy goes to kindergarten, Punchdrunk-style

“What are you taking a picture of?” Scott asked.

“How late we are,” I replied.

“What time does school start?”

“8:30.”

“Oh. Well, then we have plenty of time.”

:::

We were late getting out of the house, plus it was pouring rain, and in between my cajoling the kids (Come on! Come ON!) and trying to manage a giant bag of school supplies (six colored pencils in pink, gold and silver ONLY, plus a thousand Ziploc bags and 500 plastic forks), I forgot to take pictures of Kai standing outside of our door.

You can picture him, though, turtle-like with his giant backpack, huddled under his trusty Thomas umbrella.

On the way, I honked at a random car that was dallying at the light because OMG we're late for kindergarten LET'S GO DUDE, only I might not have said "dude," and, to my cringe-inducing horror, I wound up following that same car all the way to school and into the line for drop-off. 

:::

I had had visions of us parking the car and walking him in as a family, taking a picture of him and me, this sweet and complex and amazing kid starting kindergarten and wasn’t he just a baby?

First day of school 2009

Isn’t he still?

I didn't even have a chance get out of the car. Instead, I handed the camera to Scott, who was closer to the curb.

“I can’t get the window open!” he said, frantically fiddling with the mechanism, locked so the kids don’t open their windows on the highway. It works on husbands, too.

He finally resorted to opening the door.

“Say ‘Cheese!’” Scott called.

And Kai did. He posed with a big smile and perfect eye contact for one second, two seconds, three, four. Ohmygodtakethepicture!

“Why won’t this work?” Scott said, as the camera finally snapped, Kai looking the other way, having lost interest three seconds earlier.

And then we were driving away and Kai was walking in to school. I’ll try to line up a picture in front of the house another day—some day when we’re not in a mad rush. Maybe in a few years.

In the meantime, at least he has this to look forward to at lunch:

 

Boo yah.

:::

When I picked him up at 3:30, he launched himself into my arms.

"It was my first day of kindergarten," he said, as though he had finally realized what was happening.

"It sure was, Kai," I said.

"Need an ice cream sandwich."

And I bought him three.

 

Comments

[Dave]

See your first day was really perfect.

[Mom In Two Cultures]

The whole bento thing just confuses me and makes me feel just a tad bit like I am being stalked by reminders that I will never be a Japanese housewife.

http://www.momintwocultures.com/2012/01/why-im-bad-mom-japanese-version.html

http://www.momintwocultures.com/2011/09/top-10-signs-youll-never-really-be.html

[Q]

It's really too bad it wasn't me you honked at so then we could have an "OMG I can't believe you flipped me off after I honked at you" story to relive over wine. Love your blog.