Hamish will turn three next week. I was in this chi-chi kids' store in Park Slope looking at these miniature Dickies brand backpacks, musing on getting one for him ($20), but then thought I'd pace my spending self and get it for a preschooly gift at the end of the summer. I mused this all out loud, like I tend to do, naively convinced that people care about the minutiae of my life (oh and I blog about it too...) And the sales clerk was lovely, following along with each snore-inducing detail, and asked if he was entering a threes or fours program, because once they reach the fours, the kids should really have a full-sized backpack since they'll be bringing home folders and will have homework. Homework. Before they're out of diapers. Possibly. When I taught at S___, the only homework first-graders were assigned was to learn how to tie their shoes by themselves. And S___ is a school that almost guarantees acceptance to an ivy league university upon entering kindergarten. I gripped the countertop and told the nice clerk I could feel the earth spinning. Spinning out of control. Time is like a Kenyan marathon runner, with blurry stick legs making me feel nauseated that I cannot ever keep up.