He told Mabel that she'd have more fun at school than he would. She was looking forward to it, and agreed that she would. As soon as we got there, she made a beeline for the dollhouse, and then the animals, and was quite happy to kiss me goodbye - after I'd made a quick run to the car for a spare pullup, because I suddenly didn't trust her in underpants after all.
Me: She's wearing underpants today.
Other mom: Oh, has she been doing well with that lately?
Me, breezily: No. No. ... Hmm.
Other mom, a little confused: So you just decided today was the day?
Me: Yep. Well, she said she'd wear underpants. I think she'll be okay.
... At least, she should be. Well, if...
... You know what, maybe I'll put a diaper on her.
Anyway. Two and a half hours later, after a pleasant trip to the post office (and how often in recent memory have I been able to put those words together?) and a quiet wander around Marshalls and Target, where I picked up a couple of things and tried on a few others, I returned to school. Mabel was crying, and practically levitated, buzzing, off Miss S in her anxiety to be in my arms. School, while nice, had not been exactly like home, and Mabel had had some difficulty getting the teachers to behave in exactly the right manner. The bread at snacktime was a little too toasty. The strawberries were not to her liking, though I'm told she ate quite a few anyway. The teachers couldn't hug her just like her mummy could. She apparently demanded at one point that they put her in the car and drive her to me.
It's not that our Miss Mabel is high maintenance. She just wants things the way she wants them, that's all. I'm sure she'll love it in a few days' time, once she's got everyone else operating according to plan.