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Short stop in Barcelona

#25

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"Would you like to play in the sandpit?" she asked her daughter who was clinging tightly to her leg.

"No. Where's Jasmine?" Vivi mumbled into her thigh.

"Don't worry, she'll get used to it," the teacher interjected as she strolled by.

"I'm sure she will," she replied with a smile. During their last tour break she had toured a few schools for her daughter, knowing Vivi would need to begin full time education soon. After multiple rounds of obsessive online research, toggling between school rankings and wine recommendations at midnight, she had chosen one school and secured a place for the fall, a small win in a sea of bureaucratic nonsense.

"Let's look at some books," she said, dragging her daughter across the room toward the little library teeming with germy five-year-olds.

"Do you want to fill out the rest of your forms while you're here?"

More forms? Wasn't the three-hour online questionnaire detailing her daughter's preferred brand of toothpaste enough? Her face must have radiated 'what the fuck' because the teacher quickly added, "There are just a few more."

"Uhm, Sure," she said, forcing a polite smile. "Do I go on the website to fill them out?"

"No, they are paper forms," the teacher replied, walking over with multiple sheets of paper and a pen.

Are they using quills too?

The teacher pointed her toward a small child size table and chair where she could do her 'work.' Her daughter followed, settling herself under the table while other kids asked if they could 'brush her princess hair' and 'paint her ears.' It was all fun and games until one of them shrieked she had a white piece of hair.

One question asked for the details of the 'second person with parental responsibility.' She skipped that question and filled out the rest of the nonsense, before handing the paperwork back to the teacher.