Getting better all the time

This morning was a red-letter morning: It was the first time since Samson started school that he didn't cry when I left him.

And if you think this isn't a big deal, you try starting your day prying your toddler's fingers from your shoulders as he wails "Don't leave me. Daddeeeee."

[Thank God Vicki only works part-time; I don't think I could do it every day.]

But today he was ok. We walked around his school a bit; I got a little tour of his classroom --- "this is my cubby; that's my cot." --- and then he was off to play in the big room. Before 9, all the kids play together in one big room [think GenPop on Oz, minus all the stabbing] and then they break out into their respective classes.

There are, as best as I can tell, only four other children in Samson's class. And there are only two who merit any mention: Jordan and Maeve. When I say they merit mention, I mean that according to Samson, Jordan makes a high-pitched noise when he eats. And he runs inside and gets a timeout. Maeve, well, I think she's got a temper. That's all we know.

I see other names on the cubbies, but these kids just don't make the highlight reel. To be honest, the Dalai Lama could show up as a guest speaker in his class and we'd never know.

We are, however, apprised on a near-daily basis of the fact that Samson's teacher, Miss Jackie "is a woman." He's big on that. Still.

Curiously, Samson has developed a slight accent since he started school. It's only on a few words, and I can't imagine where it's coming from, but Vicki has noticed it too. When he says "outside" now he sounds Dutch and it sounds like "outsoid." When you ask him where he naps at school, he'll tell you "on a cot" but he sounds almost Punjabi and so it comes out "onnakott" with the final "t" sound really pronounced.

I have no theories on the provenance of his newfound cosmopolitan polyglot mash-up. But it's pretty funny.