“Write this into your brain,” Boy tells Girl. “When they turn the lights off in the cafeteria, NO TALKING. Those ladies are mean.”

“My teacher will be there. She’ll tell me what to do,” Girl says.

“No she won’t. She goes off with the teachers and you’ll be with the cafeteria ladies,” Boy says. He is imparting his brotherly wisdom to her as they’re riding in the backseat, on our way to school shopping. He goes on to tell her not to share her food and to never ever throw food.

The next day, Girl and I attend a half-hour orientation meeting for new kindergarteners at her school. She listens intently as the teachers go through all the rules. Here’s what she remembers about it: “The teachers said the grownups have homework the first day and the kids don’t. Ha ha!”

But she is stressed about going to full-time school. Every last thing sends her into a crying jag today. Especially when I remind her about the crayon rule at school.

“All the crayon boxes go into a big pile, and the teacher hands them out. You may not get the box with your name on it,” I tell her. “So don’t cry.” So of course, she then wails for 15 solid minutes.

I forget how young she is sometimes. I’ve been wanting her to go to kindergarten for two years now, so she can learn how to read. She watches waaaayy too much TV — she can recite almost every episode of Sponge Bob verbatim. I want her to know the world of books, and I hope she will love them as much as I do.

We just have to get through the first day.