First day of school

I didn’t think I was ready for school. My parents bought me a penguin backpack over the summer, but I can’t figure out how to put it on. I can’t even put on my own socks yet, and believe me, I’ve been trying.

And then suddenly I’m walking into an empty classroom with my dad on a Monday morning, and the teachers and the other kids are showing up, and everyone seems to know each other. I’m the new kid, youngest one in the room. I’m really glad the other kids were willing to show me the ropes. And the toy cars.

In case you haven’t started school yet, here are some of the fun activities that await you:

Sand table. Imagine that someone took your playground and shrank it down so it fits in a table. Sad face news: there’s no longer anything to climb on. Happy face news: you’re now a giant. Or possibly an Olympian god, like your parents are in the real playground. As you stand around the table with your fellow Olympian gods showing the tiny Lego people just how much fun playgrounds can be—with the constant falling down and being buried in piles of sand raining down from giant shovels held over their heads—you’re learning to explore the parent role.

Making play-doh. This turns out to be surprisingly easy. Take several cups of whatever mystery substances you’re handed, dump them in the giant bowl, and take turns stirring everything together. It turns into a sort of salty goop that you aren’t supposed to eat until snack time. Keep some in your shoes for later.

Reading. Just like at home, this activity is really for your parents, not you. However, parents need constant encouragement, so try to sit quietly while your parents practice their reading. If they seem to be getting bogged down on a difficult word or a plot point, turn the page for them. That way they won’t get too frustrated.

Snack time. Also known as “No” time. No, you can’t have the juice that the other kids are having. No, you can’t have the cookies that the other kids are having. No, you can’t wander around the classroom with your cheerios. No, apparently it’s still not time to eat the play-doh.

Circle time. Let’s all sing along with songs we don’t know while making random motions with our hands! All the other kids were sitting still, which isn’t always my scene. It was a huge relief when the two kids next to me got up and started dancing. A quick dance break is always a great way to relax and recharge.

Separation time. Also known as abandonment time. Finally, your parents leave the classroom. (Some of the parents have been sitting silently at the edge of the room for an hour now, completely checked out, so you may not notice much of a difference.) When they announced this, I got so excited I pooped. I’ve learned that’s a pretty good stalling tactic. Once the parents are all gone, we sit around and talk about how we feel about their parenting, and share some of the joys and challenges of the week. I suspect the parents are off in another room doing the same thing, except they get to have coffee, while we’re stuck eating stale play-doh from our shoes. When we’re done, we take our shoes off and go to the padded romper room with the gym equipment. Unlike the sand table, this is a full-size playground. And it turns out playgrounds are even more fun without bees, sticks, crying newborns, or supervision.

So that was my first day of school. It was a lot of fun, and the teacher told my dad that she was very impressed with me, and that I should come back and do it again next Monday. I told the teacher that I was very impressed with school, and then I came home and took a 3-hour nap.