It was Edouard's first day of school. Hubby enrolled him the first week he was here. By all accounts, it was the most simple, and friendliest process he encountered during that week. The school is a couple of blocks away from the appartment. Red bricks, stone courtyard, garden and actual bell make it quaint and far-removed from any modern inner-city or urban-based school.
Second kindergarten (of 3 levels) is not considered daycare within the Belgian school system. That means no naps, no tardiness and phys-ed. Edouard took it as such and expected to learn how to read and write. He realized, to his mild disappointment, that it was business as usual - playing, and the politics of pre-schoolers.
Edouard likes his new school. He likes the teacher (Mademoiselle Isabelle) and he likes lunch. He made many new friends none of which have names. Some kid threw sand in his eyes. He shrugged him off as an imbecile (you know him as the stinky, rejected, ADD boy the school had to integrate). The class harpie told the imbecile off. Edouard did complain that an annoying little girl kept making sheep eyes at him and sitting beside him during play time.
"Belle journée Maman. Pas tappé, pas mordu."
Perhaps, it's me but I just detected a slight accent...
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