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When I was in kindergarten, I was in the morning class. I always looked forward to noon, which was when I got to go home. I felt pretty much the same way about school all the way through college.

Our teacher, Mrs. Stevens, would line us up in size order, so I always brought up the rear. She would then lead us out of the building through the back entrance, where all the mothers would be waiting in a small cul de sac, surrounded by a chain link fence.

Well, not all the mothers. Not my Mom. She was always stationed outside the perimeter, standing about 80 feet away from the exit. As all my classmates ran down the short flight of steps and into their mothers’ arms, I would have to commit my Mom’s location to memory as I wound my way through the crowd of tall, loud women.

After a couple of weeks I worked up the nerve to ask her what the deal was. Why couldn’t she just wait in front, like all the other mothers?

“Never you mind,” was her response, as she grabbed my hand and we started our walk home.

“But,” I attempted to continue. Ill advisedly.

“Mind your own business,” she said, raising her voice. Three strikes would not bode well for me, so I tucked the mystery away in a corner of my mind and pulled a shade over it.

Almost a quarter century later my wife enrolled our three year old Mikey in nursery school. I didn’t like the idea of sending my boy to spend time with strangers, but went along with it.

One day during his second week I went to pick him up. I arrived 15 minutes early, so I could watch him. Looking through the small window in the classroom door, I could see him seated at his little table with six other kids, curly blond hair hanging just above his blue eyes. He didn’t seem to be paying attention; it must be torturous for a little boy to sit still, I thought.

As I waited for the class to be dismissed, I realized I was slowly being surrounded by a group of young mothers, busily chatting amongst themselves.

“Oh, my April is so advanced,” the woman behind me was saying. “I’m having her tested next week!

“Really!” her friend responded. “Well, my Jason has been accepted into an AP kindergarten class! That’s Advanced Placement!!“

“Bobby can read on a third grade level!” said another, not to be outdone.

“My Judy was toilet trained at two!”

“Steven can do long division!”

“Susie ties her own shoes!!!”

The shade that was pulled down all those years ago quickly rolled up.

A week later it was my turn to pick my son up again. When he came out of the room he was confused; I was nowhere to be found.

I called to him from the end of the hall.

“Why are you standing so far away, daddy?” he asked as he ran to me.

“Never you mind,” I responded.

Then we went home. I gave my little boy a snack as we sat down in front of the television to watch Looney Tunes together.

We both found it very educational.