“I don’t wanna go to school!” Adam whined, crossing his arms and kicking his feet.
Vivian turned in the passenger seat to look at our children. “Now, now. Don’t you want to make new friends?”
Adam pouted. “Don’t wanna.”
Amelia raised her hands, practically jumping out of her seat. “I wanna make brathelets.”
“Bracelets, sunshine,” I corrected. “It’s pronounced bracelets.”
“Brathelets,” she tried again. I couldn’t blame her considering she was missing two of her front baby teeth.
I signaled and merged into traffic. The preschool was only a couple blocks away, but Chicago traffic was unpredictable. There was also the added stress that I needed to drop Vivian off at Jones-White & Burke Investments before eight. She had a very important meeting to get to, and I didn’t want to be the reason she didn’t show up on time.
“I want to color,” Amelia said. “And play tag. I don’t want to be it.”
“Are there tests?” Adam asked. “Cory says tests are hard.”
Vivian chuckled. “No, sunshine. I don’t think they’re going to give you tests. You’re still too young for those.”
At this, Adam relaxed a little. “Oh, okay.”
We pulled up to the front of the school just in time to see the last few children walk in. Vivian and I guided Amelia and Adam to the doors, holding their hands. I crouched down to look them both in the eye.
“Now remember,” I said. “Always be there for each other, okay? Be nice. Play with everyone. Make lots of friends. And be sure to listen to what your teachers tell you.”
“When are you coming back?” Amelia asked, swinging her backpack in one hand by the strap.
Vivian crouched down, too, kissing Amelia’s forehead while pinching her cheek. “We’ll be back to get you in a couple of hours.”
“Promise?” my son asked, looking very much like he was about to cry.
I ruffled his hair and smiled. “I promise, buddy. Don’t worry. Dad never breaks his promises, right?”
Adam nodded slowly. “Right.”
Inside, the school bell rang loudly, echoing off the hallway walls. I patted both my children on the backs and gave them a gentle nudge in the right direction. Their teacher waited patiently for them on the other side of the doors.
“I love you,” I called after them.
“We love you, too,” they said together before disappearing inside hand-in-hand.
I rose and sighed, ignoring the crack in my knees. “That teacher,” I mumbled. “Have I seen her before?”
Vivian took my hand, leading me away. “Yes, you have.”
“I don’t remember her.”
“She’s a teaching assistant from the local college.”
“Did I run a background check on her?”
My wife rolled her eyes. “No, I wouldn’t let you, remember?”
“Hm. Maybe I’ll get Devin right on that.”
“Babe.”
“I’m only kidding, angel.”