The King of Kindergarten

The morning sun blares through your window like a million brass trumpets. It sits and shines behind your head – like a crown. Mommy says that today, you are going to be the King of Kindergarten!

You’ll use a golden brush to clean Ye Royal Chiclets. You’ll wash your won face with a cloth bearing the family crest. You’ll dress yourself neatly in handpicked garments from the far-off villages of Osh and Kosh. B’Gosh! You’ll be ready to reign!

“My baby is heading to school,” Mommy will say during breakfast. But you’re not a baby – could a baby wolf down a tower of pancakes the way you can? I don’t think so.

“You’re growing up so fast,” Daddy will say. And he will be right! “I can’t stay the same size forever, can I?” you’ll say. “One day I’ll be taller than you, Daddy, and you’ll be my ‘lil man.” Daddy will laugh but you won’t be joking.

Than a big yellow carriage will deliver you to a grand fortress.