I’m exhausted. It’s only 10 o’clock but my body thinks it’s well past midnight. Four hours of a kindergarten cake walk does that to a person.
For those enquiring minds (who want to know), the cake lasts all night. (See Carnival Craziness.)
One of the best things about kids is their unfiltered enthusiasm when they win. Add cake as a prize? Holy cow, nail down the roof ‘cause it’s about to blow away!
In that room tucked back in the kindergarten wing, I witness a microcosm of our little town. Some win with grace. Others na, na, na as they dance their victory jig.
My favorite exchange, hands down, is when one small boy turns to his neighbor, pats him on the back and wishes him congratulations before he turns, air-pumps his fist and mumbles “Drats!”
Clearly disappointed not to have won, he doesn’t pout. He doesn’t stamp his feet. He doesn’t throw a tantrum. Many an adult might learn from the kind actions of a 6-year-old boy.
I walk over, lean in and whisper in his ear, “You were a very nice friend.”
“I still wanted to win,” he admits.
“I know.” I don’t add he already has. He won’t understand, but in time, he might.