At Villa, classes start at 8:30, but they don’t let the kids into the building before 8:20. If you get there early — and many kids do, including mine — you wait on the patio until the bell rings. They’ve got an efficient system. Each grade has a separate area to wait in, and when the bell rings they have the kids enter one grade at a time to prevent a mad rush for the doors.
Wednesday morning, I volunteered in Patrick’s classroom. It was my first time this year, and I wasn’t sure when his teacher wanted me there. That was an easy problem to solve: Instead of just dropping the kids off, I’d walk them in so I could ask Patrick’s teacher what time I should return. We got there a few minutes before the bell, so I walked with the kids to wait on the patio.
And that’s when it happened.
As we walked, Alex asked me: “Dad, can you wait with Patrick instead?” I’m now officially an embarrassment to my children. (To be frank, I was wearing one of my more comfortable, practical, yet ridiculous-looking bike-to-work outfits. I can’t really blame Alex for not wanting to be seen next to the dude rockin’ the manpris.)
