The visit to the past. And the future.

The Goldfish has been asking and asking and asking if we could please, please, PLEASE stop at the Montessori school he went to last year and the year before. He’s been feeling quite nostalgic lately. I think he’s had an absolute breakthrough with reading and with math, and he just needed to sink his feet into the rootedness of his old school, the one where he found both his foundation and his wings.

So we crossed our fingers and hoped.

There was only one car in the lot, and I knew it to be Ms. Kelly’s. But oh, the door was locked, and the Fish had nearly made it back to the car when we saw that cute little teacher’s face peering out the door. She unlocked it and was met/nearly bowled over by a massive hug from that little dude.

He could barely squeeze under the kids’ door, he’s grown so. But once he was in, he was home.

He showed his little brother the guinea pigs, which for the longest the Fish called those critters, “bennie pigs.” And then he read their names aloud and he and Ms. Kelly just beamed at each other.

We’re hoping that this is where the littler brother will go, come his time. He had no qualms in settling right in, sensing the Fish’s ease and confidence there.

We could have just rolled out sleeping bags and camped out all night.

All of those familiar things. All of those comfy spaces.

And the just-their-size sink and soap dispenser? We could barely coax this one away from those.

Big brother had a great idea to lure him away, and Ms. Kelly was in on it. They’re smart cookies, those two.

We couldn’t bear to leave without a bit more lovin’ from Ms. Kelly. But it was time.

He made me promise that we could go back soon so that he can say, “hi” to Mr. John David and Ms. Kerry. So heads up, at least to you Mr. John David (Ms. Kerry might have to wait until next year; she’s just had a little sassy baby girl of her own). You-know-who will be descending upon you soon.

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