Rabbit Racer

I spent all day yesterday touring kindergartens for next year, which was the emotional equivalent of riding successive waves of happy and sad.  I can't believe that in a few short months I will say goodbye to preschool.....forever.  But the settling realization that these sweet and "easy" days are fleeting has helped me to embrace some of the more recent preschool hurdles, like Grand Prix Day.

The dreaded note came home in the backpack a few weeks ago.  They print it up on colored paper and put a bunch of clip art cartoons on it to make it appear like it isn't a death sentence for your Saturday morning.  But those of us who lived through three year old preschool last year know all about Grand Prix Day.  It's the day when you send your kid to school with a document box that you have spent countless hours crafting into the mazaratti of paper cars.  I was a little naive last year, but when I got to school and saw the finely honed document box masterpieces.....I knew.  I knew that when the note in the backpack says, "The car doesn't need to be fancy, it should be a joyful learning experience for you and your child"......that is really preschool-ese for "GET YOUR CRAFT ON because this is the FAST LANE of creative madness."

So, I conveniently set the note aside, because last week was intensely busy and I couldn't conceive of a box car in the midst of helping my 9th grader proofread his nine page paper comparing and contrasting the worldviews of Plato, Socrates, Aristotle and Homer.

See?  By contrast, the preschool years are "easy".  But I digress.

Buzzard saw the note sitting on the counter and didn't even flinch when I announced that Emma would be staying home on Tuesday, January 29th because of a cold.  But the very next day he arrived home with not one, but TWO document boxes from work.  He stacked them neatly on the homeschool table and never mentioned a word about them, bless his soul.

He knows how to guilt me.

As luck would have it, Emma and I were scanning the isles of Dollar Tree a few days later waiting for inspiration to strike so we could have the cutest, most clever, cutting edge Valentines for the Valentine's Day party.  (Yes, another preschool note sent home in the backpack.)

Anyway, Emma found this rabbit head and begged profusely for it to come home with us.  The bad news is that we never did pull together a plan for Valentines, but no matter, because for a whopping FOUR BUCKS we scored a rabbit head, two strands of Easter garland, and a package of plastic eggs.

God bless you, Dollar Tree.

And then we rushed right home to our box.

And we hopped right on it!

A short while after allowing Emma to point and direct while I fired away with my glue gun, the Rabbit Racer was born.  Grand Prix greatness.

Turns out, Emma didn't have a cold on Tuesday, January 29th after all.  My premonition must have been completely off.  ;-)  So off to school it was this morning, so we could "park" in Mrs. Alice Ann's "parking lot".

This was Carson's car.  Emma loved it.  Carson is my favorite kid in the class.  He has round little glasses and a big boy hair cut and looks like a distinguished English professor, but he is ALL BOY.  He is adorable.  I complemented his Mom on his outrageous shark car, and she told me Carson was totally bummed that she wouldn't allow him to have a leg coming out of the shark's mouth.  That made me love Carson even more.

There were some pretty terrific cars.  This horse carriage was amazing.

Emma had plenty of media coverage.

She got a blue ribbon at the end, just like every other kid, because this is 2013 and it is no longer politically correct to have losers in preschool.  ;-)  Ms.  Jerry, the director, gave her usual sweet talk about how amazing all the kids were.  (And they are, they really are!)  Then, on the way to the car, Emma yells, "Hey MOM!  I might have gotten this blue ribbon because I am number one in God's eyes.  Or I might have gotten it BECAUSE I HAD THE BEST CAR EVER!!!!!!"

I just didn't feel I was in a position to disagree.

Well done, preschool.  Oh, how I will terribly, terribly miss these days.