Every morning when I take Phoebe to preschool, she asks me to stay for a minute to help her with something -- to hold a stencil while she traces a picture, to read a story, to do a puzzle. On days when this annoys me -- days when we're running a bit late, days when I need to rush off to work -- I remind myself that I only have a few more months of being the mother of a preschooler, and that I should chill out and enjoy these moments while they last.
Anyway, this morning she asked me to help her with an alphabet puzzle. "I need something that begins with m," she said, sorting through the pieces, and then she held up one with a question mark on it. "Here we go!" she said.
"I don't think that starts with m," I said.
"Yes it does!" she said.
"Are you sure?" I said.
"Yes...for Mystery!" she said.
She is apparently going to have to take a screening test to gain admission to Kindergarten. I'm not too worried.
Anyway, this morning she asked me to help her with an alphabet puzzle. "I need something that begins with m," she said, sorting through the pieces, and then she held up one with a question mark on it. "Here we go!" she said.
"I don't think that starts with m," I said.
"Yes it does!" she said.
"Are you sure?" I said.
"Yes...for Mystery!" she said.
She is apparently going to have to take a screening test to gain admission to Kindergarten. I'm not too worried.
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