Not long ago, Ray commented that we really should hang the Morning Monkey quilt — the one a mom in Sophie’s pre-school class made when she had heart surgery last fall — on the wall.

“It’s fading,” he said. I’d just blogged the same thing. It’s true. Everytime we wash the quilt, the monkeys are a more distant memory. And with kindergarten now less than two weeks away, the transition’s fresh in my mind all the time.

But when we put Sophie down to sleep (and YES, that’s a crib she’s in, in the picture, and yes I know it’s horrible to put my 5 year old in a crib, and yes I intend to discuss this material failing here, at some point soon) she begs for the quilt.

“Morning Monkeys!”

How can I say no to that?

She’s asleep now with Morning Monkeys on her back.

I’m wide awake, with the kindergarten monkey on mine. This wek we got Annabelle’s 2nd grade assignment — scored the rock star second grade teacher, I’ll call her the fabulous Mrs. Z — but haven’t received confirmation as to whether Sophie definitely got the amazing Ms. X.

And there are a million other questions, that can only be answered with time and experience. Sophie’s a lab rat in her mother’s experiment, headed to a mainstream kindergarten room. For the first day, at least.

Somehow, that was funnier when I said it in May, when this whole thing was months away, not days.

I wish I could crawl under the Morning Monkey quilt myself.

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