Earlier this week on Rachels' daycare report, we got a note from Teacher Jordan, who is leaving the school. I liked him a lot because he was the only male attendant and it's important for Rachel to see that men other than her dad can take care of kids just as well as mommies can.
Jordan is leaving to run a tattoo parlor on the East side. Kids one day, tattoo clients the next. So very Portland.
Anyway, he wrote on Rachel's report: "Goodbye Rachel! I will miss you! Good luck growing up!"
"Good luck growing up!?" It sounded so odd. I still haven't come up with the the words to describe how that casually tossed-out salutation makes me feel. What kind of luck will she need? Lucky to be pretty? Lucky to like books? Lucky to be smart? Lucky to be able to go to any college she wants, regardless of the cost?
Or just lucky to survive the minefields of adolescence, acne, mean girls, dumb rules and clueless teachers -- not to mention impossible parents?
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