There are barrettes and bows and ribbons and clips everywhere.  There are flowers on the bedspreads and pink paint on the walls.

There are sing-alongs and plays behind curtains made of beach towels or sheets.

There are high-heeled shoes on too small feet and long dresses on bodies not nearly developed enough to fill them out right.

“Dad, you’re stepping on my hem!” Wendy cries.

“Dad, are you gonna sit down and watch our play?” asks Maria.  “It’s Snow White!”

Drummond sighs inwardly and tries very hard not to roll his eyes.  He sits in the appropriate chair, hands Maria his ticket and waits for the play to unfold.

But, before it can start, Kara comes busting through the curtain, knocking it down and crying, “YEEHAW!”

“Kara!” Maria and Wendy shriek at the top of their lungs.  

“We’re having a play and you’re wrecking it!” Maria declares.

Kara only throws a laugh over her shoulder as she races for the back door and the neighbor boys who are waiting outside.

Drummond, remaining silent, waits patiently for Wendy and Maria to hang the curtain up and get situated.  It takes probably ten minutes because, of course, the curtain has to be just right.  No peeking, they tell him!

The play begins and he watches as Snow White meets the dwarfs (their dolls) and then the evil step-mother (a picture glued on a stick) gets the girl to eat a poisoned apple.  And, of course, there is much arguing because Wendy forgot to enter stage left when the dolls are racing to save Snow White.

And then the Prince (Wendy) kisses Snow White (Maria) awake and soon Drummond is clapping as the girls curtsy.

“Is that it?” Drummond asks.  “Y’all are done, right?”

“Here is your ticket to Cinderella!” Wendy announces.

Drummond takes it with a forced smile and rushes hastily into his bedroom.  He finds M’Lynn standing at their bathroom door, with a special glow in her cheeks.

“I’m pregnant!” she cries.  

(He did not pass out.  He just said with a smile, “That’s great.”  But I’m certain he was cussing a blue streak in his head.  Because, of course, it was going to be a girl.)

I don’t think everything I learned came from Kindergarten.  I certainly learned some things.

1)  Fifth graders were special because they were the only ones who got to play on the playground.

2)  Be prepared for lunch, or you were going to be hungry.

3)  Jumping in a dress probably wasn’t the best idea.

4)  Running to the big tree and back wasn’t enough to help me release my energy.

5)  When the bus went into the dip it felt like a roller coaster.  Especially if you stood up.

6)  It cost $0.90 cents to see the puppet play of “The Wizard of Oz”.

Interesting facts, but nothing I really needed to remember.  Until…

I wasn’t able to get the sandbox one day, so I ended up playing with the little chalkboards.  Which was okay because my neighbor was playing with the blocks and that center was right next to the chalkboards.

There was another boy playing with the blocks.  His name was Bill.

I asked him to spell it for me and when he did, I wrote it on the chalkboard.

It had four letters, just like my name.  And it happened to be the name of my grandpa, one of the coolest people I knew.  (He had go-carts.)

So…

7)  I learned how to spell “Bill”.

You will soon see just how important that was...