License to Cry

Most parents (moms, at least) expect to cry on the first day of kindergarten. But it's those unexpected moments that sneak up and do you in. It started with the dentist hygienist who explained, quite matter-of-factly, "These are his adult teeth right here," as she pointed them out on an x-ray. Adult teeth? You mean this small, dependent creature will one day grow up? I cried blasphemy as I fought back tears. I thought first-timers and kids getting cavities filled were the only ones who got weepy at the dentist. Guess not.

The following week I suggested Noah play with his sand table, and while he happily did so, I got comfy in an adirondack chair, leafing through a magazine. "Ah, this isn't half-bad," I thought. Until I looked up and saw that my child had been replaced by a tiny giant who was practically bent in half to reach down into the Little Tikes sand table. Uh, guess he's not a little tike anymore. Kleenex, please.

I was OK today, at kindergarten drop-off. It startled me last year to see his cubby in a different location, and today was no different. He's at the same school, though, so there was too much familiarity to bring on the waterworks. Fortunately I know how to ruin a good thing with a library visit after school. On the way there, I said, "How'd you like to get your own library card today?" (Dork flashback: I still remember standing at the counter with my mother when I got mine.) Noah was excited at the prospect and added, "And maybe we can take out 'Duck'!" Oh. No. Not "Duck."

I unknowingly picked up "Duck" by Randy Cecil at the library over the winter and choked back tears while I read it. Out loud. To Noah. In public. Duck is a wooden carousel duck who longs to fly, "adopts" a lost duckling, and eventually realizes that she needs to give the duckling up to the real ducks so that he can fly with them. Parents about to send kids off to college should not go within 20 feet of this book. There should be a rating system for kids' books. Let's start with a giant "T" for tears, just to save us the embarrassment of having to pause awkwardly to catch our breaths when duckling, all grown up, comes back to give Duck a ride so she can see what it's like to fly. (I think Mr. Cecil might be hinting to his kids that they need to repay their debts to him, however.)

Alas, I had bigger issues than reading "Duck" without weeping. When the librarian handed his shiny, new card to him, a proud Noah exclaimed, "I feel like I have my own driver's license!" AAAAGH!!!!