So today was little mans first day of preschool. I am sure that this is supposed to stir up all sorts of emotions, crying, sadness that he is moving on in the world...but really? I just sat staring at my cell phone waiting for them to call me and tell me to come get him for any number of offences I was imagining in my head. Maiming someone with a paintbrush after having a John Deere taken out of his hand, pooping in his pants and hiding it in a corner of the room, throwing a temper tantrum about having to go inside, outside, to the bathroom, or eat something he didn't want...you get the picture.
But alas, no phone call, not even a blip on the radar. I went to pick him up thinking, "wow, it was a successful day!"
Of course, I cannot have something go off with out a hitch, that might alter the universe in some adverse way.
So, I am thinking that things were all great...we pull into the garage after preschool. Henry opens the door, and proceeds to fall out of the car, knocking his head on the door, and has a lump the size of Arkansas on his head that is now black and blue and is turning slowly into a shiner too...
Arkansas....Do you know how big that state is?????