Yesterday was Ryan’s first day in his new daycare.
Naturally, I worried all day. Was he confused about where he was; was he having fun; was he holding his own in a class where he was now the youngest instead of the oldest. And mostly, was he bonding with his new teacher and was she getting to know him?
When I arrived to pick him up, he was happily playing with a big yellow ball. When he spotted me, he grinned and crawl-clomped as fast as he could to me. (I wish you could see the way this kid crawls. He’s all CLOMP-CLOMP-CLOMP-CLOMP! He doesn’t have a prayer of ever sneaking up on anyone.)
And as soon as his teacher saw me, she yelled out, “He’s so sweet, I want to take him home with me! I wish all kids were just like him!” in her thick Yugoslavian accent that is equal parts difficult to understand and endearing.
Ok, she likes him. That’s certainly good. But she doesn’t really know him yet…
“He likes cereal,” she then told me. “And applesauce. And milk.”
Well then. I stand corrected. After just 10 hours, it appears she knows my kid pretty darn well.