He's always been an early riser, but especially so in those days -- he was regularly up and ready to play by 5:30 a.m., which meant that he sometimes needed a power nap by mid-morning. So on that very first day, he fell asleep just before we were ready to get in the car and go to the preschool. That's him, sacked out on his Daddy, while we took pictures and marveled at the notion of taking our baby boy to school for the first time. It seemed crazy then -- he was so little -- but he loved it.
Tonight, four years later, he graduated from preschool. I realize that sounds hokey -- graduation should be for people who have studied hard, passed exams, written thesis papers, conquered the challenges of academia. But holy moley, when I think about how much Junius has learned, changed, grown in the past four years -- well, I'd say he's earned his moment in a cap and gown. And by "gown," I mean one of Daddy's dress shirts on backwards (see photo of him processing in).
Junius? He wants to be a hockey player -- he thinks he'll make $21,000, which (according to him) is how much he has in his piggy bank at home.
And me? Surprisingly, no tears yet -- I think I was laughing too hard at the sight of my son hopping around in his father's shirt and a mortar board, his little arm covered in Toy Story silly bandz, believing that his Winnie-the-Pooh bank contains thousands of dollars. In a way, I guess he's right -- he's got a rich life and a future packed with a wealth of opportunity. I can't wait to see how it all turns out -- but I really hope it doesn't go by as fast as the past four years.