My friend Susan posted this picture of our preschool class last night on Facebook. My god, it was so strange seeing this particular group of faces again. The mists of memory are hazy. I am in the 3rd row, the 3rd from the end, in a pale pink dress with pigtails. (You can click on it to make it giant.) I remember feeling incredibly beautiful in that dress, and I wore it every chance I got. I still feel a sense of annoyance when I see the kid who hogged the best tricycle every day (back row, middle, red hair and shirt: Jeremy L.).
I remember the day Matt R. got his head stuck between two posts.
I remember the little green cots on which we took our naps.
I remember making crafts about Jesus, because it was held at a church.
I remember learning to climb to the top of the monkey bars on the playground outside.
I remember going to school in a dress without underwear, and my mom yelling at me because they had called her at work.
1 comment:
remind me to tell you the third grade lace pants fiasco story, or how I'm able to point out the faces of girls who slept with my brother in my first grade class picture (although that didn't come until later)
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