It’s the first week of kindergarten, and I’m already over-sharing with Sweet Daughter’s teacher. If she doesn’t have a sense of humor, it’s going to be a really long year for all of us. Today’s inaugural e-mail consisted of:
Dear Mrs. B.,
I wanted to let you know that Sweet Daughter slid down a tree trunk last night (she was leaning against it, her feet went out from under her, she slid down and her shorts slid up), and her bum (as she calls it) is a little scraped and sore. Why am I telling you about my daughter’s backside, you ask? I thought you may need to know why she may be a bit uncomfortable today.
Also, she has flag stickers in her blue folder to share with the class today if you think it’s appropriate.
P.S. You are collecting the notes you’ve received from parents over the years for a book to fund your retirement, aren’t you?