FYI -- I love this. I realize it won't be this way forever, but I do really love the way they get giddy with excitement when their mama comes to visit the class.
I gathered the books, and we formed our circle of chairs. We were one book short, so Sugar plopped down on my lap. We could share.
And that's when I saw it.
A bulge from her pocket.
Not wanting to interrupt, I didn't say anything. But my eyes kept glancing down, beneath the book, to examine her jeans.
If I didn't know better, I might think it was her pump.
She's been wearing a pump pack for almost 5 years. She loves them, and often makes sure they're color coordinated with her outfits. I can still see her little, 3 year old curly-haired head running around with the " Pump Pack O' the Day" around her waist.
Of course not. Pffft. Besides, I saw her pump pack around her waist as she was throwing on her backpack that morning.
We finished our reading, and I had to ask before the next group came in.
"Um. Honey? What is that in your pocket?"
"My pump. Bye Mom!"
"Oh. Your pump?"
But she was gone...off to the next group.
Two reading groups later, I had a chance to revisit the situation with her. Did her pack rip off? Had the pump fallen? Is her site okay?
"Um. Honey? Why is your pump in your pocket? Is everything okay?"
"My pocket? Oh! I dunno. I just decided after lunch that I wanted to put it in my pocket, because that's how most of the girls at camp wore their pumps."
Oh. Okay. Yeah. I mean...whatever. It's her pump. If she wants to wear it in her pocket, that's cool.
Dude. It's JUST her pocket for goodness sake.
I'm not ready for all this "growing up" stuff.