Troy and I stood in front of our apartment this morning waiting for our driver and watched the children’s parade. There is an elementary school just up the hill and the street was filled with mothers, fathers, taxis and motorbikes delivering their treasures to the classroom. The kindergarteners wore gray pants, gray shirts, and an orange and white tunic buttoned up the side. They solemnly held a parental hand and carried a lunch bag in the other. The boys’ hair was carefully parted and slicked down and the little girls had pony tails. The older ones wore red pants and jackets or plaid skirts, blouses, and knee socks. Mommy and Daddy wore professional dress, exercise outfits and in some cases pajamas and robes. After all they lived in apartments near by. Some mothers carried babies Indian style on their backs. I marvel at how they do that. Children spilled out of taxis, private cars and one little one was on a mother bike with her little legs sticking straight out and wearing a helmet that would fit J. J. Watt. They all made it before the bell rang. About 1:30 the whole process was reversed and they came home to play soccer or practice their musical instruments.