My oldest child starts his first day of second grade tomorrow. Yes, school starts insanely early in Arizona. And I am not ready. Well, his school supplies are purchased and his lunch is made. But I'm not ready to trade in our long, lazy summer days for carpools and homework.
In honor of school starting, today's writing prompt is: Write down your memories of your very first day of school.
As a little kindergartner on my first day of school, the school bus flew. I remember looking out the window at the farm fields flashing by and thinking I had never been in such a fast-moving vehicle. I guess buses are pretty fast when you're five years old and your mother always drives the speed limit.
Despite having attended Meet the Teacher night the day before, I must have listened only half-heartedly to my mother's careful instructions on how to find my classroom, As soon as the bus pulled up to the school and spit us out, I was baffled. I looked around at the low brick buildings and the steady stream of students and had no idea which way to go.
So, like the follower I am, I fell into step behind a group of older kids (second or third graders, but they were huge to my five year-old self), but quickly realized that the classrooms they were so confidently strolling toward were not mine.
I retreated to the front of the school and stood there. A lost little kindergartner waiting for rescue. Maybe I thought someone would take pity on me. Maybe I thought I would just wait for the next bus and try school again tomorrow. Whatever I was thinking, it worked because a few minutes later my teacher (an unhappy woman with frizzy brown hair) happened by, saw my pathetic self, and led me to my classroom.
It was the first of many awkward days in my school career.
Happy (I guess) Back to School,
The Brown-Eyed Girl