Schoolbag in hand . . .

I have a friend who, upon arriving home from his first day of kindergarten twenty some-odd years ago, uttered these now famous words: "Give me food, and give me t.v." Although neither of my boys said those exact words when they came home from their first days of kindergarten, Dallas's sentiment sums up exactly how they felt. If Dallas was anything like my boys, he couldn't have cared less what he wore that first day, or really what his backpack was like. I'm fairly certain that none of the boys noticed what their new classmates were wearing, much less remember what their friends were wearing days after the fact.

On this point, as with so many others, my girl is much different from my boys.

Stella has this gaggle of giggling, glittery girlfriends who get along gregariously. They all happened to start Kindergarten this year so naturally we had to have a tea party to mark the occasion. We visited a local tea room and the girls partook of complimentary pink smoothies, balloons, and crowns. It was all tres chic. The girls had a fabulous time, but my boys, even at the age of five, would have found this activity to be insufferable. While Stella sipped her drink with her pinky up and discussed first day of school wardrobe options, my boys would have been begging for french fries and ticked that there weren't any garish plastic slides around.

The night before school started, I travelled throughout the house like some kind of First Day of School Faery. Jack was excited to start fifth grade, and Creed was looking forward to the bus ride, but mostly angry that he had to go to school at all. "Mom, it's going to be so bo-ring!" They could not have cared less as I tried to help them pick out their first day outfits. Although I bought them each a new outfit, they both opted for their ratty old tee shirts and shorts. Their sister, on the other hand, was concerned that she couldn't find the latest skirt I had made. (Bless her heart, she still thinks my home-made skirts are awesome.) I couldn't find it either. She had insisted on wearing it to the tea party, and when she disrobed afterward, she must have left it willy-nilly somewhere. Luckily, she didn't really care what she wore as long as it was a skirt so we settled on an old size 3T skirt from the Gap, Tee shirt from Old Navy, and her Red Saltwater Sandals.
Well blow me down, if that's not the cutest little kindergartener you have ever seen, then you can call me a monkey's uncle.
Stella was pleased as punch to pose for me as she waited for the bus and the boys couldn't resist tormenting her. Creed's face slays me in that photo.
Eventually, Jack left for school before the bus came for Stella and Creed, but Stella wouldn't let him leave without a good-bye hug.

Finally, she boarded the bus with barely a backward glance, all smiles and "Hi! Are you going to be my new friend?" and off they went.

After school, Creed appeared rather prophetic as he announced that "school was so bo-ring."

When Stella arrived home (two hours before her big brothers for the first two weeks), she listed all the girls, by name, who had worn pink on their first day.

"Mom, Setlally, she had pink everything. Pink shirt, pink skirt, pink shoes. I think she is definitely gonna be my friend."

I guess hunger and the search for entertainment crosses gender lines, though, because right after that, she asked for food and a movie.