A Cautionary Tale

First days can be scary. Especially first days of school. As you can see, I was scared sh@t-less.

It begs the question: Why? Why? Why?

The youngest of four, I was last to leave the nest. It was a warm, cozy nest; a nest where my mother made delicious chocolate chip cookies, warm from the oven, special just for me when others were at school; a nest where the peanut-butter cookies, also warm, had special criss-crosses on them; where aproned mom sang from the door: "K,K, K, Katy; K-K-K Katy, beautiful Katy...I'll be waiting at the k-k-k kitchen door."

And then, school loomed. The unknown. The great abyss.

But, as second days are, it was so much better. (Love the bangs - thanks, Mom!)

Four Reasons:

• My brother, Tom, was bus monitor (he may have been quickly appointed in this role to get me onto the bus - whether official appointment or parental-appointed, it mattered not. He was there to guide me;
• Mrs. Jorgensen: my beautiful kindergarten teacher with dark bouffant hair-style. She had a Jackie-O'ness about her. Who wouldn't want to be her?
• My classroom. I was smitten: it had a side room with a peaked ceiling, all skylights welcoming in the sun, clouds and light. And, inside, a huge, metal slide. As big and wonderful as those in the playgrounds. Perfect. Extra perfect because it was never scorching hot. 
• Snack and nap-time: graham crackers, cold milk in small waxy containers followed by dozy, whispery and giggly "nap"time on my unfurled green and gold sectioned mat. 

The year rolled on in a happy, contented way - filled with newly-sharpened pencils, friends and extra-special times when my Mom was Room Mother. 

When the school year ended, I already knew I was moving away that summer to Pennsylvania; and I knew that I was also moving away from the special time that remains forever special.

It helped, of course, when Robby shoved down the bus window and wedged half of his entire body out the window, yelling:

"I love you!!! Will you marry me?"

"Yes! Yes!!" I yelled - --left in a cloud of belching diesel fumes and Robby waving and throwing me a kiss.

Looking back, kindergarten was my favoritest, most special time of all.