First Day of School

Mom used to take us shopping downtown at the zicmee. We were lucky girls; we went to Nordstrom to get our shoes, GAP to get our jeans, and to the food court for lunch in between. There was just one shopping day a year. Of course, that doesn't count all the time we spent looking at catalogs from Lands' End and LLBean. But in terms of physical shopping, Mom took us a few weeks before and we had our shopping day and bought our new school shoes, and pants, and that was it. There was usually a separate trip for school supplies - we had a $5 budget, and after that, anything else we wanted, we had to pay for out of our allowances. (Back then, $5 went a bit further than it does now.)

If I were still in public school, today would be my first day back.

If I were Kathleen Kelly, I would make Joe Fox deliver on his promise to buy me a "bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils."

Somehow, today I am remembering something that happened more than twenty years ago. (!)

Mom bought me a big pink/magenta tote bag. It was huge. It was supposed to be my school bag. I have no idea what in the world I could possibly have put in there to fill it up. Heck, you could have put ME in there and still been able to zip it up. I don't know what possessed me to ask for it. It was made of nylon and had black handles.

This year, I was to start Kindergarten, so I wanted to be extra super specially prepared. I had been waiting for this moment - the moment where I could be like everybody else in their school-going glory - for so long! (I used to invent "homework" for myself so I wouldn't be left out when my older sibs were doing theirs. Yep. I was one of those kids.)  Mom had taken me shopping and I had bought new shoes. I wanted to keep them pristine for the beginning of school, so I elected not to wear them. But then I had some wavering thoughts, and I wanted to wear them beforehand, and I couldn't find them. It wasn't long before the week before school approached and we were doing our back-to-school breakfast routine...but still, no K-shoes were to be found.

These shoes were black canvas Keds and had polka dots of color on them. It was the late 80s gone bad: purple, yellow, orange, green, turquoise dots spotted the landscape. I couldn't find them, and I couldn't find them, and I couldn't find them...and then, the Saturday before school started, I had gotten desperate, and I was beginning to wonder where those shoes could have gone. By this time, it wasn't just that I wanted to wear the shoes, I was beginning to worry about the Wrath of Mom, as well, if I couldn't come up with them.

As soon as the pink monstrosity of a bag -- also the only pink accessory I have ever owned -- had been procured, I had carefully filled it with my school supplies long ago and hung it up on my hook in the closet, mostly to keep it from being poached by other family members. Now, as I was preparing to add the finishing touches of School Supplydom, I took the bag off the peg, because I'd organized my pencil box and wanted to put it in, so I would be ready, steady for the big day.

The bag wasn't empty though. Nope. I had, in my infinite planning mode, picked out exactly what I was going to wear to school on my first day, probably the very day that my new shoes were purchased, and had, in my squirreliness, stowed it carefully away in order to "reserve" the outfit for the monumental occasion. (Not being in charge of the laundry schedule, I probably had concluded that it would be best to be on the safe side and just not try to put it through any cycles until the Big Day had arrived.) I'm sure I pretended I was Anne of Green Gables and laid out  every combination of clothing I owned on my bed, and likely had my sisters help me pick what to wear.

I had rolled each piece of my outfit up carefully into little tubes, and shoved my socks inside my shoes. Why rolling, you ask? We had been instructed by Aunt E that the *only* way to pack things was to roll them up, because it preserved space and kept things from getting too wrinkly. She was sage (she had been to London!!), and besides, she was part of the Best Auntie duo, and so her word was practically gospel truth, bordering on law. There were my favorite pants! I rejoiced. I had completely forgotten that I had "reserved" the outfit, and I practically wept for relief, knowing that I had a good outfit and that I wouldn't have to go tell Mom I had lost my shoes.

I immediately put the outfit on, to try it on one last time, to make sure it had the magic a first day would need; but it will be completely unsurprising to more than a few of you to learn that, upon being tried on, my brand new shoes fit just a little too tight for comfort.

Of course, I wore them anyway! After all, a girl must have new shoes for the first day of school.