Last week saw a milestone pass in our house: AJ enjoyed his very first last day of his very first year of schooling. He has now officially "graduated" kindergarten.

We are very proud.

[Blah, blah, blah — skip Rich's philosophizing,
and go straight to the podcast!]

Never having parented before, and having no memories of Kindergarten myself (I never went, scofflaw that I am), I didn't realize there was actually liturgy for Kindergarten graduation. Maybe this is something we only do here in the Midwest. Or maybe it happens all over the world and I've been clueless for 39 years. Probably the latter.

I think milestones are important to celebrate — even if there's no real par-tay and spiked beverages involved. I mean, we really don't do these things well in

Update: I've added Jennifer's account of AJ's first day in the comments section, for the interested.

Today we sent our little boy to school for the first time. Nobody wept. There was no gnashing of teeth, wailing, or sack-cloth and ashes. On our part, anyhow. Instead, we were excited to see AJ off to a new adventure in his life, one that promises whole new rafts of friends, future sleepovers, new books to read, realms of knowledge to acquire, and numerous — I repeat ... numerous — parent-teacher conferences down the road.

He's not angry, just surprised and squinting into the Sun. Or maybe he's just part Ferengi.

Every parent believes their child to be the brightest bulb in the firmament — with the possible exception of overachieving, insecure parents who vicariously live through their childen, ever suspecting and fearing that their child will prove to be as colossal a failure as they imagine themselves to be.

Not us. AJ is not only bright, he is certifiably bright, even if nobody believes us the first time we warn them — err — inform them. My Bride and are enomously proud of our son (when we're not enormously vexed by his impulse-control), and I've already been justifiably corrected by my son on many observations I've made. The days are few until he truly knows more about things than I do and I become the student. Nevertheless, I hope to remain in service as his father, mentor, and guide — even through High School.