As part of the application process to enter our son into kindergarten at a highly recommended Catholic school two towns over, our family was to meet the headmaster priest for an interview. We came during a busy time of the school year, apparently, because the parking lot was completely full. My husband decided to drop our 5-year-old son and me off near the door while he found a parking spot across the street. We were running a bit late, so my son and I at least getting to the priest on time seemed like a good idea.
We had already been talking with the priest for a few minutes when my husband arrived. I thought things had been going well for us, and that my son was a shoe in for kindergarten entrance. We were a family who had it all together, after all. Until I noticed that my husband was empty handed.
“Did you forget something?” I asked him as cool and level-toned as I could muster, trying to save face. My husband’s face, on the other hand, hit the floor, and he rushed out the door. When he returned again, slightly flushed, from his quick jog across the street and back again, he was holding what he’d been missing: our infant daughter.
The school decided my son was too young and should wait another year. Go figure.
Becky, now a mother of 4