Who gives a fuck about an oxford comma?

I remember my first day of school.

My mom got me up and put me in my dress that matched my older sister's. I had a full breakfast and we took the obligatory pictures, smiling and super excited about going to kindergarten. We got in the car and started the drive to the elementary school.

And there were no crossing guards.

And no kids walking to school.

And no traffic.

And no cars in the parking lot.

Turns out it was the day before the first day of school.

My first day of middle school my mom's car wouldn't start so the neighbor dropped me off. I was super late for my first day of high school for some reason I can't remember.

The Joey's first day of school wasn't like any of that. We took him into the school and he never gave us another glance. There was another kid crying and The Husband and I thought the same thing (we found out later): he's going to think there's something to be scared of, so let's not make a big deal out of goodbyes. Which turned out to be fine because The Joey started talking with his teacher and got in line and never looked at us again. I looked at the teacher and said "Is that it?!" and she said "Well, I guess so!" We went into the room and dropped off his school supplies and the line started to move. There were other parents in the room and we all kinda followed them out. Then The Husband and I went to find the nurse's office to drop off his updated shot record minus the absurd chickenpox vaccine (more on that another time) and we kept running into The Joey and his class! We'd hide behind corners so he wouldn't know we were still there... not that he would have noticed. He was totally in his own world, so happy to be at school.

Two words summed up yesterday, at a level I didn't know I could reach: so proud.