This afternoon the sun peeped out of the clouds just in time for my eldest child’s graduation. My beautiful daughter was to don a cap and gown and stand there on the podium making me the proudest woman in the backyard.
You read that right. backyard. My daughter is three. What exactly was she graduating from? Well from nursery, to, ahmmmm, nursery school.
Is this something Hallmark have made up so that we spend more money on cards in desperation to keep up with the Jones’? I have never heard of a 3 year old’s graduation before! Never the less, it was very sweet watching all of her peers grinning like Cheshire cats / scowling at the audience / clinging to their parents, or in the case of my daughter looking directly out and shouting “CHEESE” (that girl knows a photo opportunity when she sees one).
Afterwards, a poem was read out, springing tears to my eyes that I can only put down to hormones, they all let off helium balloons (my one year old balloonless son REALLY hated that part), photos were taken and then juice biscuits and fairy cakes were consumed.
Later, my daughter demanded ice cream as a ‘special gradimation treat’. I love ice cream, so who was I to refuse?