I am about to walk into Room 112 of Elm School in a few minutes, and I am anticipating the round of applause and cheers that tends to herald my arrival there, along with loud excited whispers of "Isaac, your mom is here!"
This is a pretty wonderful thing, and this year is probably the last time I will get to experience it quite this way. So I want to pause for a moment before I go back to collecting art supplies for the decoration of 25 cardboard digiridoos, and register my deep appreciation for this opportunity.
Preschoolers think everyone who viists them is terrific and interesting, but first graders are critical thinkers and they speak their mind, so this applause is not something I take lightly. Not at all.
And then there's the fact that they are not applauding anything extraordinary I've done, like finishing my law degree while nursing a new born baby and living hundreds of miles from my law school, or completing my first catch and release on the flying trapeze.
No, this applause is just for being myself, and sharing a bit of my time with these sweet kids. Which, come to think of it, may be just about the most supreme compliment I have ever been paid.
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