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Last week marked a very special occasion in our household. My five year old son, Monster, is officially a kindergartner. His first day, I completely embarrassed myself while becoming a living cliche. I got out of my car in the circle drive as I dropped him off to wave and snap photos, with parents behind me in their minivans, huffing and giving me the stinkeye for holding up the line.
Since then, I've taken a lot of pleasure in the little things--packing his afternoon snack into his Toy Story lunchbag, reading enthusiastic correspondence that come home from his teacher in his folder every night, secretly throwing away the endless piles of coloring book pages when he's not looking, and best of all, being able to drop off my kid while wearing the comfy pajama pants with the hole in the crotch, flip flops, and no bra. Oh yes. This is the high life, friends. I'm living the dream.