Yesterday, the little boy woke up very early for school. Blankly, he took the shower, get dressed and ate his breakfast. Though he was not complaining, he was certainly not thrilled about waking up, eating and taking a bath early. And as if zapped by aliens, he moved and talked like zombie, while everyone in the house was crazy preparing his things. Suffice to say, he discovered too soon that school at early hours is not really a cool idea. To go from being cuddled and having everything sugar-coated, to the responsibility of keeping to himself and do not have someone to come in rescue in case he messed up.
However, his moods picked up at the sight of huge trees and building and courts once inside the school ground. He also took delight with the pictures and drawings posted all over his big classroom. His classmates, obviously not all was shy, were getting noisier. Not wanting to leave the boy just yet, I took one last look at him; expecting him to beg if I could just take him home. Soon I realized I was just as fearful to leave him on his own. But I was wrong about him. I thought I saw courage and guts in his eyes telling me that he will be fine. That’s when I knew he was ready for this after all.
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