... which means there's another Very Special Event. At Our Fine School, every day is a special day. Today in Will's class, it's English Tea Party day. They've been studying England for a month now, and today is where it all culminates in a feast of strawberries and clotted cream. Pity the child dressed in white.
The children dress up for their English Tea Party. Well, some of them do. I laid out a very nice button-up shirt and khakis for Will last night. This morning he came down wearing the khakis ... and a striped rugby shirt. It has a collar, which apparently Mrs. B said was the main criteria. "Kids don't have to dress up!" her e-mail said, so when Will came downstairs looking casual but observing the letter of the law, I let it go, knowing full well that today the kindergarten hallways would be filled with mini-Ralph Laurens.
Of course, the minute we pulled up in the drop-off lane at school this morning, I regretted my decision. Tiny Cinderellas in poofy pink crinolines with diamond tiaras on their heads were tripping out of minivans; little boys dressed as though off for their Oxford tutorial gallantly exited SUVs. Will, on the other hand, looked as though he were headed to the corner bar for a beer.
I know he won't care when he gets to his classroom and is surrounded by the future members of the Harvard Law Review in their navy jackets and red ties. So why do I care? I don't know. I guess I worry Mrs. B will take one look at Will and consider calling social services. He's a neglected child! His mom didn't make him wear a tie to the tea party.
Listen, I barely made my husband wear a tie to our wedding. But that being the case, I still often regret my lack of effort at times. I have arrived underdressed to more than one dress-up occasion. I have too often treated lightly things that should have been approached with dignity and respect.
I guess the question is, does the Kindergarten English Tea Party count as such an occasion? Should I have wrestled Will into a button-down shirt and a tie?
I don't know. I've got a life to live, man. And a lot of that life is dedicated to the health, well-being and happiness of my children. I just wish a little less were devoted to costuming them.
Your Tiny Hand Is Frozen
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