My tiny human started his first full year of school this year. Last year, he went for half days, so this was officially the big leagues.
He was nervous. Of course, he would never admit this to anyone, because apparently admitting you have feelings is against the Tiny Human Code of Conduct. But Mom knows. Mom always knows.
Meet the Teacher Night was my first clue. He didn’t want to go into his classroom. He wouldn’t talk to his teacher. He wouldn’t even LOOK at her. At this point, I was thinking, Well…this is going to be interesting.
Then came the first day of school.
I always take the tiny humans to school on their first day. I like to make sure they know where they’re going, where their classroom is, and generally reassure myself that I am, in fact, sending them to the correct building.
Tiny Human #1 was PUMPED. She got the teacher she was hoping for and was ready to take on the world.
The bell rings.
Tiny Human #1 takes off toward the classroom like she has been waiting for this moment her entire life.
And then there’s Tiny Human #2.
This child BOOKED IT. He ran through those school doors so fast that he didn’t even look back at me. Not a wave. Not a “Bye, Mom.” Not even a Are you sure you’re going to be okay without me?
Nothing.
He ran away from me so quickly that I didn’t even have time to get emotional. Honestly, I was impressed.
Fast-forward a few days.
I pick the tiny humans up from school, and they’re sitting in the backseat talking back and forth about their day. I’m listening to their conversation when Tiny Human #2 starts telling Tiny Human #1 all about his extracurricular teachers.
And I notice something.
Every time he describes one of his teachers, he gives Tiny Human #1 a very specific description.
Their hair color.
Their shoes.
And, in one particular case…
Their toenail color.
I finally interrupt.
“Why are you describing your teachers based on their feet?”
He looks at me like I have just asked the most ridiculous question in the world.
And then he says:
“That’s how I know someone.”
…
I was silent…Completely silent, because what exactly am I supposed to say to that? Apparently, my child does not identify people by their faces.
Nope.
Hair? Sure.
Shoes? Obviously.
Toenails? Apparently that’s the gold standard.
Meanwhile, I’m sitting there wondering if I should be concerned, impressed, or just accept that this is another one of those moments where Tiny Human Logic has completely defeated adult logic.
Parenting is truly an adventure. You spend all this time teaching your children how to recognize people, make friends, and navigate the world…and then they come home and casually explain that they identify their teachers by their feet.
Sigh.
Tiny Human Logic strikes again.
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