Almost got me

I commented about seeing parents cry on the first day of school. Almost got me today.

Reanie has been 5 years old for less than month. She's at the young end of things at her school and in her class. She's my only little girl.

This morning, while eating breakfast, she told me she wanted me to drop her off with the other big kids instead of walking her into school. I expected that I'd have to walk her to her class for a couple of weeks, at least. Mind you, just about every kindergartner has parents walking them into school and to class, and frankly, I'm not sure if Reanie can find her class on her own. I still don't know, now that I think about it.

But she was convincing. Of course, not having to park, unload Buddy, and all of us make the hike inside, and then hike back to the jeep isn't something I want as part of my morning, but I do like that time when we are all together chatting.

So this morning (an hour ago as I write), I waited in the line of cars, inching up one car length at a time, that was equivalent to the time it takes for a parent to get their kid out, put on a back pack, say good-bye, remember the lunch box or money, then say good-bye again. For eleventy-million cars.

Screw that.

Reanie, tired of sitting and waiting for everyone get out, asked if she could go ahead and get out of the jeep. I couldn't think of a reason why she had to wait until we pulled up to the front of the school, so I said, "Sure."

She unbuckled her seatbelt, hopped out (normally, she needs help out of the jeep), grabbed her backpack, slipped it on herself, told me to have a good day, blew me a kiss, and shut the door.

All pretty cute, right? I think so.

But where she got me all choked up is when she took off running for school then. Her size 10.5 feet pitter-patting as fast as she can go while wearing Keds and a backpack that is way too big. She looked so tiny. My baby girl. She couldn't be running to school. We weren't pressed for time, and I wasn't on anyone's case about hurrying. She just wanted to run and get there.

I lost sight of her quick, though I tried to look through and over the 20 cars ahead of us. I can only assume she made it to the front door, and from there I can only assume she made it to her classroom. But that little pitter pat run with her backpack darn near as big as her...my memory forever.

We got through the line of cars, and started working our way to the highway towards Buddy's school. He told me to turn right, which was actually correct. I made the turn, and he told me, "Good job, Daddy."

It isn't even 9am yet, and I've had a GREAT day.