End of an era; oops, maybe not yet

Every morning, I drop Allie off at her elementary school.

We pull into the student drop-off lane (which is single-file cars), wait our turn to get near the door where many kids are milling about, then she hops out of the back seat, I hop out of the front seat with her backpack, she gives me a kiss, I give her a hug and her backpack, I hop back into the car and drive away, usually refastening my seatbelt as I drive since I'm trying to make a quick getaway for the drivers behind me.

We've been doing this rapid drop off for two years now, so we've got it down. She told me once that a friend asked her why I get out of the car every day. We talked about me wanting to get a last hug from her before she starts her day away from me and I told her that if she wanted me to stop, she just needed to say so.

This week on Tuesday, when we pulled up at school, she said, Mom, don't get out. She unbuckled, leaned forward to give me a kiss, grabbed her backpack and exited. I didn't tear up about the thought of us ending this tradition, but it did make me a little sad that apparently peer pressure to be cool when saying goodbye to Mom was making her change our routine.

Wrong!

Yesterday, I asked her when we were almost there if she wanted to say goodbye like the day before. She said, nope. I told her good, because otherwise we need to plan better so I get my last hug before we get in the car to head to school. She said, no, I want to keep doing it like we always do.

I know the day is coming soon enough when, maybe as a second-grader, she'll be too cool to kiss her mom goodbye with other kids watching. I'm just glad that day isn't here yet.