But more significantly, you became part of the very fabric of my child’s school experience. And mine.
You smiled empathetically while I peeled my wailing son from my leg day after day at drop off. You pretended not to notice that time we had to duck into the bathroom for a quick wardrobe change after a potty accident. And you didn’t stare when he showed up for school looking like something I found in the back alley. I did the same for you. And we developed a silent sisterhood over all of it, didn’t we?