The First Day

 You wore your brother’s underwear all summer. Kindergarten starts tomorrow and suddenly you insist on wearing those pink panties in the back of your drawer, the ones with the Hello Kitties stamped on the ass.

Third grade recess pecking order and whether or not you’ll be invited to Eli’s birthday party replace the decisions of whether to do a cannonball or a dive off the dock, whether we should spend a rainy morning playing Battleship or Lego, whether turning your sister's Elsa doll into a Sith Lord was a good idea.

You will both come home exhausted those first days. And then as the year goes on—you'll come home excited, in tears, in smiles. And even though I ask you the cause of those salty, wet tears or that mischievous little smile, I won’t be there experiencing it with you – like we did all summer.

Yeah, yeah, I get it. This is all part of growing up. You must fight your own battles and celebrate your own triumphs – but it still breaks my heart. Just a little.

Know this. As I send you off to face what I like to call the institutions of the world, I love you. And I will always be your landing pad, your “home free”, that place where you get unconditional hugs (and really annoying questions about your day). And I will stick out my foot and face plant that kid who made you cry.

Have a great first day. Have a great year.

Daria Salamon1 Comment