I can’t believe Martin hijacked the entire story about Alex with a rant!
Other information that the less clothing-obsessed readership might be interested in:
Alex was very nervous before school started. I could barely persuade him to eat his breakfast, and he was anxious and big-eyed on the drive to school itself. We dropped Fiona off at nursery on the way, then drove to Gilmerton Primary (it’s all within a few minutes’ walk, but we were running late).
The families gathered in front of the two classrooms, with all the nervous little children in their uniforms. There was some confusion, because they’d renamed the classes from Primary 1a (taught by Miss Bain) and 1b (taught by Miss Stewart) to 1b and 1s respectively. This meant that we were queuing at the 1b door, confused to see the wrong teacher’s name, until Martin went to investigate. Then we went to the correct place, waving at Alex’ former nursery-mate Keir as we swapped (his parents were also reversed).
Alex was welcomed into the room by one of the classroom assistants (two women, older than Miss Stewart, very friendly). We hung up his coat and stashed his backpack while he got busy threading beads. Then Miss Stewart shooed us all out of the room, because it was time to start. All of the children waved, and none of them wept.
It was a short day – only an hour and a half. We got home pretty much to turn around and go back out to get him. He came out with a picture of the sun, coloured yellow, and a big smile on his face.
“How was it?” we asked.
“It was good. I thought it was going to be hard, but it was really easy.”
All the factors were in place for him to love school. Miss Stewart is lovely, the classroom assistants are friendly, he’s mature enough to be confident in the situation, he was tired of nursery and ready for a change, and actually, he’s quite bright. He’s still enjoying it hugely, a week and a half in.
But back to the day itself. We came home, Alex changed clothes, and we all had lunch. Alex and I went to the movies (we saw Cars) while Martin went back to work. He and I then bought a belt for his school uniorm, to reduce the degree of shirt-untucking to a believable level. By the time we were on the way home, Alex was tired and thoughtful.
It was a good day.