I end up being as unproductive today as I ever have been, my thoughts returning again and again to the image of the boy, sitting up straight and tall at his desk, as he waited for his new teacher of his new school to begin. I could have stood at the doorway to the classroom and stared in at him all day, but am dismissed when he turns and offers a small, discreet wave. He will be fine, but I will of course worry about it until three, when I pick him up.
I am excited to hear his stories of the first day. Nothing will make sense and it will be new to both of us.