The little man just tried to hand me a dead box elder bug that had, inexplicably, made its way into his pants pocket. I’d like to report that I took the parental high road, turning the moment into an educational experience for us both, but I can’t. No, I screamed like a girl and ran. I got a good case of the heebie jeebies while the husband was left behind to calm the poor lad down…by telling him “mommy doesn’t like bugs”. No, no she doesn’t. Especially not in my son’s trousers. In mixed bag news, I did hear back yesterday from the school district. The little man will soon be starting a halfday special ed pre-school program. It actually sounds like a good fit, and the teacher to student ratio is amazing. Nine children, three adults. Not too shabby. If all goes well with the speech therapy and whatnot, as I’ve been told it will, he’ll be able to attend a regular kindergarten. That’s a relief. The stressful part is that he’ll be riding a school bus to and from his class. I’ve been assured that he’ll be riding the bus only with other pre-schoolers (ugh, my boy will be riding the short bus), and an adult aide who will assist. But I hadn’t thought we’d be dealing with this just yet. I’m sure he’ll love it. He’s always pointing out school and city buses, and talking about wanting to ride them. So for him it will be a great new adventure. For me it’s an overprotective mother’s worst nightmare, being forced to relinquish too much control over my child’s safety. Normally I’d chide myself for being paranoid, but today I came across a local news headline “Kindergartner hit by school bus, driver arrested” that only adds fuel to the fire.