Your mother’s voice drifting through the door telling you to wake up.
Mismatched clothes screaming at you to pick them out.
Slathering peanut butter and jelly on white bread.
Sneaking multiple Scooby Doo gummies into your lunch.
Crinkling of paper lunch bags.
Rubber tires crunching the gravel.
Bouncing to the door watching your light-up shoes flash different colors.
Searching for your small, wooden cubby.
Sitting in awkward silence after the teacher asks a question that no one knows the answer to.
Running rambunctiously to recess.
Rusty, metal chains screeching as you swing back and forth.
Your hair standing up from the static after going down the slide multiple times.
Accusing other preschoolers for cutting in front you in line for the monkey bars.
The thought of boy’s having cooties racing through your mind.
Walking slower then molasses when the teacher calls you back in from break.
Dipping fingers into different color paints and somehow making art.
Glue dancing across the table onto the floor.
The scribbles of crayons all over the paper and table.
The greedy laughter when you double-dog-dared your friend to lick a crayon.
The never-ending clean up song that spreads as fast as a virus.
Being tamed by the teacher.
Dr. Seuss story time filling your brain with new non-sense words across the room.
Sleep filling the room.
Eyes slightly opening one by one.
Repeatedly being reminded sharing is caring while you pass around your favorite stuffed animals from home.
Proudly strutting to your cubby and snatching your lunch bag.
Trading up lunches.
Disappointment after finishing the un-filling juice box, still wanting more.
The curiosity of finding out just how many marshmallows can be stuffed in your mouth.
Learning about the one-eyed, one-horned, flying, purple people eater.
The frustration of not being able to remember the alphabet.
Bragging when you finally recite it perfectly.
That burst of energy that flows through you when your teaches says you can pack up.
Being overjoyed when you see your mom outside through the window.
The sadness of having to say goodbye to your friends them again.
Waiting for your mom to ask you the question so you can spill out what you did today.