For the past week and even more so over the weekend we’ve been getting him excited for his first day, that he’s going to big school just like his uncle Rudi (who he idolizes and all the way there in the car this morning he was telling me about how he’s now a big boy and he’s “so cited mommy” to go to school.
We took some first day of school photos. Well as many as he would let me anyway… which is all of three. Then it was time to go inside and drop him off. Things started going a little pear shape when he asked to play in the sandpit and the answer was no we must find the teacher first…
I don’t know how I managed to wait till I got into the car before I started bawling my eyes out.
Soon as he realised there were other kids his age in the class and he was being left with them world war 3 took hold. He clung to me, arms and legs a vice grip. His teacher had to peel a kicking, screaming and crying Fysh off of me and then demanded I run.
I can still see that agonized little tear streaked face.
I hate school.