The first day of school is such a tease.

In our house, it started with me waking up a minute before the alarm goes off. I walked into my second grader's room and sing "Good Morning to You" to wake her up.

Normally, this would result in her pulling a pillow over her head. Today, I got "Mama" and a cuddle.

She jumped into the bathroom to get ready without being told twice. The negotiations over the first day outfit were quick and whine-free. She asked me to make her hair, and I got the half-ponytail right on the first try. I stuck a silver clip in her hair to keep the bangs out of her eyes.

Her daddy had already made the sandwich for her lunchbox, and there was just enough milk left for her Cheerios.

We were ready 20 minutes before the bus came, which left plenty of time to snap the annual picture in front of the door with her backpack. The backpack was so much bigger than it had ever been before.

Her father walked her to the bus stop, and I said a quick prayer in my heart for a wonderful year for her. She had instructed us last night not to follow the school bus to the school in our car like we did last year.

We relented.

Unlike the mornings sure to come, there was no crying, no complaining, no yelling, no rushing, no dawdling on the first day of school. Just the promise of a sweet new teacher, old friends, freshly sharpened pencils and empty composition books.

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For me, there would be an uninterrupted morning to write, put away breakfast dishes and return phone calls. I had been looking forward to this moment two weeks into summer vacation.

But, now, in the stillness of the quiet house I was reminded that the first day of school too quickly fades into a memory.

(Aisha Sultan is a columnist for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Contact her at asultan@post-dispatch.com.)

Distributed by McClatchy-Tribune Information Services.

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