When last we saw our heroes, they were about to call the preschool director…
“I get the sense that part of your decision not to put Zach in Pre-K is financial,” she began. Oh, you mean because preschool tuition in Los Angeles costs more than tuition at a state university?
Well, that’s not where I thought the conversation was going.
“Forgive me if I’m crossing a line here,” she continued, apparently not yet having learned that I have no lines. “But, I was watching graduation rehearsal today, and I think he would benefit from another year.”
It was the perfect storm: Zach’s growing anxiety, funding for the public schools in the shitter, and changes afoot in the staffing of the Pre-K classroom.
What followed over the next two days were earnest conversations with teachers, Grandma, and various other people who have Zachary’s best interests at heart, not to mention a goodly number of meltdowns on Zach’s part, as though he knew what we were all talking about and was looking to influence our decision. By Friday afternoon, we had cobbled together a plan to make it possible and found out how to get refunds from our summer camps since he’d be in school all summer.
Friday afternoon, I told Zachary that he could stay in the preschool another year to do Pre-K. And I’ll be damned if that child didn’t cease and desist all meltdowns almost immediately.
Now, if we could just figure out how to get his brother into line…