As many of you know, I’m a pretty big deal journalist. I mean, not the kind of big deal whose name or stories you might recognize. Or who even writes for outlets you might recognize. But still, a pretty big deal.
And like any big deal journalist, I have confidential sources. Super secret ones. Like, so confidential that even my thinking of them right now might be a breach. That’s how confidential they are.
Anyway, one of my sources told me a story that I thought I would share with you today. His name is Erin. Erin, um, Vace. Totally a real person. Who’s also confidential. And a woman, now that I think of it.
Anyway, Erin has top level security clearance, which is why she’s my confidential source. That’s right, I don’t bother with anyone below Collateral Secret. She did two tours in Afghanistan, one in Iraq and one in a war zone so secret no one even knows the country’s name. She’s been undercover with the Mexican cartels, ISIS and the Russian oligarchs.
But nothing could prepare her for switching preschools mid-year.
In October, due to reasons beyond her control (there was a loose nuke and three Uruguayan hit men involved) she had to find a new preschool for her darling little two-year-old, Herbert, before the end of the school year.
So Erin went big. Insane as it sounds, she tried to get him into Happy Shining Faces Pre-Pre-Prep School. I know, crazy right? You don’t just walk into HSFPPPS (or Hisfips, as it’s often called) on a lark. You need at least a 1400 on your CRAWLs and a letter from a top play group.
But, like I said, Erin is bold. Naturally there was concern that Herbert wouldn’t be able to keep up with the accelerated pace of learning. Not many kids can finger paint at a Hisfips level. But also, there was the lingering question of why anyone would transfer preschools mid-year. It’s just fishy, is all.
In his former school, Herbert had been a Level 5 block-stacker, which is decent but not enough to get into an Ivy-league kindergarten. He wasn’t potty trained, but his diaper use showed some real promise. A lot of people in day care circles saw him as a real up-and-comer.
The application process was grueling though. You see, it’s not just about the child, it’s about the family. The school has a duty to ask itself, “Are these the sorts of people we want to make small talk with while dropping off our kids?”
She did well on the background check, naturally, but Poor Herbert got flagged for a misdemeanor tantrum from a year prior. Usually infant records are sealed but Hisfips has some pull. Luckily, his EEG and fMRI scans seemed solid – he’s always had an impressive hippocampus, everyone says so.
However, her scans were problematic, since large parts of her brain are redacted. The academic test was even worse. Her quantum physics knowledge was rusty and when she tried to clone a fruit fly the sample got contaminated and the thing ended up the size of a sheep dog and devoured most of the Lil’ Hands Discovery Garden.
Laugh all you want, but STEM is important. If you can’t do Southern Blot by five, you might as well not even bother.
Luckily, the physical exams were smoother. Erin is a solid freediver and Herbert is pretty good with his Little Tikes grappling hook. In fact, if it hadn’t been for that one slip-up during the parkour section, I think he might have scored perfectly.
But again, this is an elite preschool. This isn’t one of your Little Sprouts Gardens or Rainbow Smiling Faces Presbyterians. This is H frigging SFPPPS. They can’t afford to let in someone destined for a state college or Vassar. I get that.
In the end, Herbert didn’t get in. Several of the experts examining his playtime noted that he didn’t share his milk and always got the blue kitten during naptime. That’s a dead giveaway for pre-sociopathic behavior, everyone knows that. That, plus the taint of midyear transferring, it was all over for poor Herbert.
So Erin has been calling around to her safety schools to get an entrance interview. Which, I’ve got to say, is really hard to do while hanging from the bottom of a Russian Kamov Ka-31 helicopter.