So Oliver graduated from kindergarten this morning. Being the jaded curmudgeon that I pretend to be, I was all ready to concoct some biting “when I was a boy we graduated from high school and that was it” commentary. I mean kindergarten graduation? Come off it.
How naive I was.
It turns out the kindergarten graduation made me cry.
Right from the Pomp and Circumstance through the singing of various tribute songs and on to the handing out of the diplomas and the playing of a stirring tears-inducing PowerPoint montage of photos of the class taken over the year.
Don’t ask me why, school- and ceremony-averse as I am (I refused on principle to pay a $25 fee for a cap and gown rental for my own high school graduation), I was so affected by it all. But I was. I suppose it’s a combination of “our little boy is growing up” with some deep-seated human need to get all emotional when kids catapult up to the next level.
The staff at the Child Development Centre are amazing and put on a great event. I’m proud to say that my assigned potluck lunch task of “fruit plate for 10” was delivered on time, and was hand-cut from actual fruit, not just picked up at the Sobeys deli counter as Catherine insisted.
The resourceful staff went as far as burning a DVD of the teary PowerPoint for every graduate, so now we can watch it over and over again and relive it all over again.