I gripped Momma’s hand and dragged my feet.
“This is going to be so fun,” she chirped and reached to open one of a pair of big pink doors.
It swung open smoothly, like medicine oozing down a throat. Cool air wafted out at us, and I shivered.
“No, it’s not,” I said with certainty.
Momma ignored me, started a cheery conversation with a woman with bright red lips.
In time, the woman aimed those lips at me, showed me all her teeth. “Hi, Petey. I’m Jane. Come on in.”
I shook my head and cowered behind Momma’s legs.
Momma let out a high pitched giggle. “Let me just take him in, say goodbye.”
Suddenly, there was warm sunshine on my back. I wriggled around in Momma’s grasp to see another maniacally happy mother ushering in a child, a little girl already weeping.
She was a messy crier. Her cheeks were wet with tears and her lips with snot. On top of that, she made a sort of hiccuping noise between sobs.
“She doesn’t want to be here too,” I whined to Momma.
“Oh, Petey,” she sighed. “Let’s be brave about this. You’re a big boy now.”
“Yes, let’s be brave,” the other mother echoed. “Come on, Lola. Show us you’re a big girl.”
With a burst of energy I’d never before demonstrated in all my 5 years, I raced over to little Lola, grasped her by the hand, and marched her into the room with a soothing blue door.
“Let’s go start kindergarten.”
hee hee