HUMOR
My Daughter’s Preschool Teacher Thinks I’m a Floozy
Who’s the daddy?
“Would you like to play in the sandpit?” I asked my daughter who was clinging to my leg.
“No, thank you,” she said into my thigh.
“Don’t worry, she’ll get used to it,” the preschool teacher interjected as she strolled by.
Use to being separated from her parent before she’s ready because our country insists on institutionalizing children while they’re still in the early stages of development?
I’ll start her therapy now.
“I’m sure she will,” I smiled back.
Several months ago, I toured a few preschools for my daughter since she has to begin full-time education in a year. After multiple rounds of internet stalking, I chose one school and secured a place for the fall.
My daughter and I visited the preschool again last week to begin a series of play sessions, which I am attending with her, so she can get used to the adults and children before I leave her there alone.
Well, aloneish. I will be sitting in the parking lot, for the full two mornings a week she will go to school, with binoculars.
Hopefully, the police officers they call will be hot.
