This is an exciting year for us (insert exclamation point here).
Boy One will be (finally) moving on to first grade and Boy Two will be entering kindergarten, a day that he has been anticipating (and been ready for) since Boy One started two years ago. Hurray for us! Mama and Girl will have two hours to ourselves five days a week!
To begin the process of preparing for and building the anticipation towards the first day of school, I did what every red-blooded American mom does: peruse the store ads and find acceptable prices on needed (and, especially, desired) school supplies. Let the fun begin!
Boy Two was determined to find a DINOSAUR backpack for school because, well, dinosaurs go with everything, don't they? Why not at school, too! Sadly, because there weren't any 'dinosaur' movies released this summer we were hard put to find anything remotely feasible. Until (drum roll, please) the DRAGON backpack! Wow! (If you're tiring of the use of CAPITAL LETTERS and exclamation marks be forewarned that this is how Boy Two talks: loudly and with lots of enthusiasm. It's only fair to share it.)
But (and here's the clincher) at store two he veered completely off course and settled on a backpack depicting (what else?) MarioKart characters! SO EXCITED! Apparently, Mario outranks dinosaurs in this universe. End of Boy Two's story. (run credits)
Boy One was experiencing great trepidation about said shopping excursion because nothing says 'overwhelming change' like shopping does. He had almost nothing to say about what he wanted (portfolio folders: kitties? unicorns? superheroes? Fine, plain green it is!) and made several comments that betrayed his nervousness. When I asked him what kind of a backpack he wanted, he quietly mentioned "Backpack in garbage." Mama's brain works fast. "Oh, Boy One, we had to throw away your last backpack. You used it for two years and the bottom had torn out! But now we can get a new one, whatever you want!" After a lot of head shaking, we settled on plain black and Mama would create a cool airplane to affix that would make it HIS. Good enough. And he vehemently refused a new lunch box. O-kay. I'm still taken aback by how much Boy One can communicate about his thoughts/feelings by saying just a few words.