After the crocodile tears, the “Mama, I go with you,” the carrying him down the hallway, the kisses at the door, the, “I know you can do this and you’ll have so much fun,” and the prying of the hands off of my neck, I turned my back on my 2 1/2 year-old for the first time and hurried back toward the front of the school.

And then I walked into the school office, looked at the secretary, and cried like a baby.

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