A cherished photograph from my childhood shows me boarding Bus No. 426 in September 1996, my oversized backpack stealing the spotlight. The words “watch your step” on the bus stairs are a reminder of the comical misstep I took on my first day of kindergarten, much to the concern of my teacher, Mrs. Thomas.
On Monday, I found myself in a similar situation as my wife Katie and I accompanied our daughter Effie for her first day of kindergarten during Fredericksburg City Schools’ transition days. Effie humorously posed for her own “first day” photos on our porch, proudly holding a sign outlining her passions for “cats, bedtime stories and Mama’s brown leggies” and her ambition to become a “Mail Lady.”
Her loaded backpack, filled with folders, a lunchbox, and a change of clothes for emergencies, seemed a challenge for her as we awaited Bus F on the corner of Washington and Stuart Streets. While we waited, we were visited by a friendly neighborhood cat named “Dude,” whom Effie happily petted.
Nearby, another dad looked just as uneasy waiting for his daughter. At precisely 7:35 a.m., the electric bus glided into view. After sharing hugs and high fives, Effie stepped onto the bus, asking the driver, Mr. Bill, something before disappearing behind the tinted windows.
Everyone asked if we cried when watching her leave, but neither of us shed tears. Instead, we felt an odd mixture of emotions, anticipating how she would navigate her first day on her own. I found myself wanting a cup of coffee.
By Thursday, Effie seemed like a seasoned bus rider, expressing enthusiasm for her teachers and using trendy phrases from her generation. After a fun evening, she exclaimed, “I almost fell off the bed — on God!”
However, the transition hasn’t been without its challenges. On Friday morning, while preparing lunches, we found Effie lying on the couch, uncharacteristically quiet. Her eager spirit was subdued by a fever of 102. We ended up spending another unexpected day of summer together, even as I contemplated purchasing stock in Children’s Motrin. After all, perfect attendance is overrated.