What I didn’t tell my daughter….

School on a Saturday is never fun, but Libby-Sue didn’t see it that way.  She has been terrifically over excited since finding out she was going to see her classroom.  To the point of driving me bananas with the repetitive question of how many sleeps.

And finally the day arrived, and suddenly my small girl was overwhelmed with worry.

“What if they don’t like me?” She questioned in a small voice.

Squeezing her hand I told her she would be fine.

“But none of my friends go,” she stated with a sob.

She was right, she was leaving her much loved pre school in our village, to travel to her siblings school, three miles away.

“You will make new friends,” I reassured, and she looked at me unhappily.

“You will stay today?” She questioned.  And I nodded in confirmation.

“Then I will go,” she said solemnly with a hint of a smile.

And with tall shoulders she wondered over to her wardrobe and started pulling out clothes deemed appropriate to meet her new teacher in.

I sighed deeply, I knew this day had been coming for some time yet I had been putting it off.  I knew I had to tell her, but had previously not been able to find the words.

I also knew I had left it too late, and telling her now would only end badly.

But I had no choice.

“Libby, love,” I stammered, “I have something to tell you,”

Libby paused mid way through pulling on her neon pink heels and came over to me, her jewelry jingling as she walked.

“Yes mummy?”

I took a deep breath, braced myself for the reaction and shared the unfortunate news that wearing excessive bracelets, tiaras, necklaces, high heels, make up and carrying handbags, is frowned upon at school.

To the point of forbidden.

BB looked at me, her face a picture of pure bewilderment, similar to how her older sisters was when I told her where babies really come from.

“No heels,” she spluttered, “no make up? Does that include gloss?”

“And are you sure no tiaras,”

Again, I nodded to my tearful, indulged little princess.

“What will I wear on my feet?”

I replied, telling her black shoes were the norm, and showed her her sisters as examples.

“Black shoes?  Black shoes?” She choked, face turning pink, “I have NEVER wore black shoes, they are, they are….  UGLY.”

And with that she gathered up her heels, jewels, make up and other overtly pink items and flounced into her room.

Five minutes later, she appeared, face clean, dress on, arms naked and sandals over her toes.  On her head perched one solitary, plastic tiara.

“I don’t start till September, so the tiara stays….

And I will think about the shoes!.”

And so we went to school.

She loved every second.

We are not mentioning the shoes until August 31st.