That's what the invitation from The Four Year Old's preschool said. It also said it was for moms but his mom couldn't make it so I asked if grandma's were allowed to come. I suppose I should have, but didn't realize it was a Mother's Day celebration. It's a shame how working mother's miss out on these memorable experiences. It was being held during the last hour of preschool and the tea and goodies were just the beginning of the fun filled hour. We were all given a little dixie cup (The rinse and spit size you find in a bathroom.) half filled with cold (not quite ice) tea and a little doily covered paper plate holding three pink, frosted cookies and two strawberries. It was when The Four Year Old told me he and all the rest of the children had helped to frost the cookies that I realized all of my hand washing and other sanitary precautions were for naught. I thought of declining his kind offerings but he looked so expectant as he handed me not one but two of the cookies. He then tried to pass me my strawberry but seeing I had a cookie in each hand he decided to leave it on the table instead. The table the children play at with play doh and sparkles and glue. The table who's surface stops the viral droplets of coughs and sneezes from reaching the floor. When it come to kids, I know what they are going to do before they do so I'm saying, "Not on the table! Not on the table! Not on the table!" It wasn't until after he had deftly set it on the table in front of me that my words reached his brain so he picked it up and put it back on the plate. Being the good grandma that I am I ate both cookies and the strawberry. When he finished eating he wanted to go to the washroom to wash his sticky fingers but I didn't want him to miss anything so I put some hand sanitizer, I keep in my purse, on his hands. Next we formed a circle. The kids and young, slim moms sat on the floor while the overweight moms and grandmas found chairs to sit in. We sang some songs and then gifts the children had made for their mothers were handed out. The Four Year Old found a book on the floor and asked me to read it to him. Taking the book from him my finger touched a wet spot that I assumed was just some sanitizer from his freshly washed hands. A couple of little girls came over to hear the story but before I could finish it the teacher announced it was time to go to the gym. As I set the book down, my finger still felt wet so I turned my hand over to look and almost lost my cookies. There, squarely glued near the tip of my left index finger was a big, fat juicy booger. Thank goodness for hand sanitizer. In the gym The Four Year Old did somersaults on the mats. Then he started bouncing a gigantic ball with one of the teachers. Soon a couple of other kids joined in and my grandson lost interest as the other kids weren't very good at catching and he was spending too much time waiting for his turn. He found a smaller ball and bounced it over to me. We played for almost a whole minute when he politely said, "Grandma, I'm going to play by myself now." I guess he just hadn't wanted me to feel left out. Either that or I wasn't very much fun (Reading stories has always been my forte.). I had a blast watching petite, little girls try to carry the gigantic balls around, not being able to see over them, dog piles in the ball pool and The Four Year Old trying to steer a tricycle that required the rider to push and pull on the handlebars instead of peddling with their feet. All too soon it was over. We put on our coats and I drove him over to his great grandmother's. I wonder if they'll celebrate Father's Day too. I wonder if grandmas can stand in for fathers who have to work.