I started my day with Princess C’s preschool program. After staking out my spot on the 3rd row for 45 minutes and then listening to the preschool director ramble on interminably about how grateful she is for all of us, Princess C’s class finally processed in. I was proud of her. She smiled and sang and didn’t pick her nose even once.
I dashed out before the last amen and made my way down the road to my son’s school where his class was having their
Christmas holiday party. When I arrived, the kids were eating pizza and giving each other Rudolph noses with Crayola markers.
They ate pizza and cupcakes and then there was a serious round of
To wrap up the party and to help them burn off some of that sugar, there was a dance contest of sorts. Every time the Christmas music stopped playing, the kids had to freeze. The ones who didn’t freeze fast enough had to sit down. My son was the last boy in the game, but several girls beat him out in the end. The other mothers wanted to know if he learned his moves from me. I assured them he has only his father to thank.