Pink Donuts and Door Handles

Today was Preschool registration day, and for those of you whom do not live in a suburb of a metropolitan area, you can't quite grasp the hysteria that comes along with this day. Nor should you want to.

The Preschool we attend just happens to be a part of our church. http://www.orchardpark.org/ It's a looooong commute, but I would seriously drive to another state in order for Meredith to attend. We feel so blessed to be a part of the school, and I'm already having panic attacks about the fact we only have two more years there.

Registration for next year's class opened today for current families. Now, as a current family you are guaranteed a spot in one of the classes. They offer multiple classes, and while you might not get your first choice, you'll at least be enrolled in your second.

Knowing full well they are going to have a spot in a class doesn't prevent people from pulling into the parking lot at 5:00 am for their coveted spot. Registration doesn't even open until 8:00 am, but nevertheless people are there three hours early. Because of Brandon's travel schedule, I've never been able to get there a minute before 8:00 am, and guess what, we've always gotten a spot! So, it always amuses me that people are that maniacal about getting there so early.

Now, for families not currently enrolled, it's a whole 'nother story. Especially for Sr. Preschool. Last year there were parents in the parking lot at...I kid you not...4:00 am. If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me if I could register them ahead of time since we're already enrolled, I wouldn't be driving a mini-van.

After Alex climbed the bus steps, Meredith and I drove over to register. We got there about 8:15 am, and it was a ghost town. The mania was over. I leisurely handed off my registration and that was that. I may wind up with my second choice, but so far God has always known what He was doing and we wound up in the exact class in which we were meant to be.

Since we were dressed and I didn't want to come home and unload the dishwasher, Meredith and I decided we should stop for a donut (her) and a latte (me). http://www.dunkindonuts.com/
I asked her if she wanted to get a donut and she said, "Sure! Can we go to the place with the pink handle?!" I wracked my brain..."OH! Yeah, Dunkin' Donuts?!" "Yep. Mommy, that's the place."

We rarely stop for a donut, and even less rarely stop at DD. When you're shaped like me, the last thing you want to do is saddle your children with a donut habit. We've gone to DD once and it was probably four months ago. They have a pink "D" for a door handle; and Meredith remembered. I told her I couldn't believe she remembered, and she said, "Well, I a smart girl, Mommy, bemember?!"

Meredith sat, eating her pink donut, under the pink light, and chatted up half the patrons while they waited in line. At 8:00 am the clientele is mostly made up of sales people picking up huge orders of donuts. So, luckily they are every bit as chatty as Merdi. If she were older, she would likely have an internship already lined up for the summer.