The summer ends

Helping the dad

Not something you usually see in your front yard

Meet the teacher day. Can you tell the difference between the 3rd graders and the Kindergartner? Hard to believe

Everybody loves a sharp dressed "man" (zz top)

Well, tomorrow is the big day. Dustin starts Kindergarten. It seems quite unreal actually, not just because it seems like yesterday I was changing his diaper, but quite the opposite. It seems like Dustin should be going into 1st grade instead of Kindergarten. Not only is he tall for his age, but he is smart as a whip and quite comparable to his counterparts who are a year older. If the rules were different, I'd bet my bottom dollar that if he had started last year he would have done great. Of course I didn't push the issue. Everyone knows that having a more mature boy starting school is a blessing.


He is excited and nervous to say the least. With the looks of his camouflage backpack, lunch pack, pants, and socks, he looks more like he's ready to join the military (I'd be nervous too), but alas, only kindergarten. On Friday we "met the teachers". Dustin feels good about his. Her brother's name is Dustin. (immediate connection there) :o)


We will walk to school in the morning. Our yearly tradition. Dustin is excited to try out the bus because Daria told him it's a lot of fun because you don't have to wear a seat belt. What is it about kids that makes "living on the edge" so captivating?


Daria is ready for school. She will have two teachers this year. There is the morning teacher that teaches certain subjects, then in the afternoon they go to a different classroom and the other teacher teaches them. It will be interesting to see what Daria can do this year as she is in a tough class (academically that is). I think she can do it. She on the other hand is more interested in joining choir.


As a send off here are a few recent quotes from Dustin.


1. "I guess I'll just be plain ole' Dustin" (this is after I refused to let him dress up as a firefighter to go across the street. Normally I don't mind him dressing up, but wearing two layers of pants, two layers of socks up to your knee, a sweat shirt, a ski jacket, a face mask and bandanna when it's hot enough to fry an egg outside is just not a good idea. I think he would pass out from heat exhaustion before he made it across the road. So instead of "being" a firefighter he resorts to the reality of just being himself.)


2. After asking if he could go back over to a friends house and me saying "not now" he exclaims with the drama of a Broadway actor "NOW I'M REALLY BORED" (lucky for me to have the great line from my step-mom "bored is a choice")