When I arrived at Bug's side of the playground (the "big kid" side), one of his new little friends approached me with her recently common refrain: "Can I come to [Bug's] house?"
Most days I say, "Oh, sure. I will drop a note in your cubby, and then we can find a good time for you to come over."
Lately, I also have to add, "Remind me again. I will put the note in your cubby next time!"
Yesterday, I realized it was time to make good on my promise to this little Friend-o-Bug. So I said, "I will go write a note and put it your cubby now. Then, [Bug], I will come back to get you and we'll go home. You have four more minutes to play."
Squish and I went into Bug's classroom. I stole a piece of paper from the teachers, which hardly seemed the ethical choice, but desperate times . . .
I wrote a note for Friend-o-Bug's parents/guardians, whom I have never met, hoping they would not be put off by the oversized blue marker I had to use to introduce myself via their child's cubby. But desperate times . . .
Note safely tucked into Friend-o-Bug's cubby, I looked to Squish, who had decided the little water fountain in Bug's classroom was where it's at.
I said, "Okay [Squish], let's go get [Bug]!"
As I was walking away from the water fountain and toward the playground, one of Bug's classmates came in with her mom.
This little classmate washed her hands (as instructed by her mom). Then she left the sink and headed toward the dramatic play area.
Before she could get very far, her mom said, "Don't touch anything!!!"
I thought to myself, "Ah, yesssssss, the Germs . . . well, time to get [Squish] and [Bug] and get out of this Petri dish masquerading as Pre-K . . ."
I turned back to Squish - still at the water fountain - now alternating between splashing his hands in the water that had pooled by the water fountain drain and stretching his little body as long as possible so that he could get his mouth to cover the spout.