Our new kindergartner is upset. He’s just starting school and was hoping to be a first-grader. After testing, his mom and I agree that kindergarten will be a better start. He is devastated and refuses to meet his teacher.
“My friends will all laugh at me,” he wails.
“Do they go to this school?” I ask.
“No, but they’ll find out,” he says miserably.
“What grade are they in?”
“Pre-school!” he pouts.
I assure him that school can be fun. He doesn’t have a choice on what grade he’ll be in, but he can choose whether he’ll be happy or grumpy. “School’s a lot more fun when you’re happy,” I assure him. He looks doubtful.
Wednesday is a snow closure, so Thursday is his first day in school. Friday morning with a slack face and sad eyes, he approaches me, “I didn’t have fun yesterday…”
I’m hurting for the little guy and quickly fish around in my brain for some sensitive, yet encouraging thing to say when he finishes up with “… I had a BLAST!”
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