The angelbaby came home from school very happy with her new teachers (all three of them because they are departmentalized so she has not just the one, for homeroom and English, but the other two for Social Studies and Math). She loves her classmates and has "bonded with six or seven girls in her class" (her words, how cute is that?)
She loves, loves, loves everything about being in the sixth grade! Except the fact that because I drove her to school this morning, and for some odd reason they chose this year to change the bus route that has picked up our kids for the ten years we have lived in this house she couldn't remember the number of the new bus she was supposed to ride home. Somehow she thought I should remember and called me on my cell phone when she knew that I was in orientation at the community college where the two older sisters (three actually but one is a returning student) are starting classes in two weeks. I told her she needed to go to the office, surely someone there knew which bus she was supposed to ride home, one would think.
She made it home safely, and has her bus number tattooed on her hand in red sharpie for the rest of the week, (just in case). I think I will let it stay there and have her wash it off on Saturday night so that she isn't wearing it on her hand for Mass on Sunday, but if it makes her feel safer for the rest of the week, what can it hurt?
I'm just glad that she is happy. Things are turning out pretty good for everyone around here, so far. God grant me . . .