'Do I Have to Go to School Today?'

Herbert squeezed his eyelids closed. "But -- but --," he stammered, "what will happen if I don't like the teachers?"

"Herbert," his mother said, "you must give the teachers a chance."

Herbert thought of something even worse. He gulped. "Mom, what if the teachers don't like me?"

"What's not to like?" said Herbert's mother, ruffling his hair. "You're smart and funny and kind and. . . ." She gently pinched his cheek, leaned close and whispered, "You're also my favorite son."

"Mom," said Herbert, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, "I'm your only son."

"Oh, yeah," said Herbert's mom with a wink. "I'd forgotten."

Herbert pinched his lips together and refused to smile at his mom's lame attempt at a joke. He knew she was only trying to distract him from worrying about starting school. But he was worried. There were so many things that could go wrong. He might make a mistake in front of someone. The students might not like him. In the cafeteria, they might serve fish sticks and Brussels sprouts. Yuck! So Herbert crossed his arms underneath the quilt and said, "I am not, I mean it, won't-change-my-mind, no possible way, you-can't-make-me, absolutely not going to school today."

Herbert's mother crossed her own arms and stared. "Herbert!"

He pinched his lips tight and didn't blink.

His mother leaned close to his ear and whispered: "I made blueberry pancakes."

Herbert pulled the quilt below his nose and sniffed the sweet-smelling air. "With warm maple syrup?"

"Yes," said his mother. "Delicious, warm maple syrup."

Herbert yanked the quilt over his head again and snapped, "No!"

His mother sighed. "Please, Herbert. You can wear your brand-new, special-first-day-of-school clothes."

Herbert lowered the quilt to his neck and glanced at the brand-new pants and shirt draped over his desk chair.

"And my lucky underpants?"

"Yes," said his mother. "I wouldn't dream of sending you to school without your lucky underpants."

Herbert squinted at his mother, took a deep breath and said, "No!"

"Herbert, come on!" his mother said. "You'll get to meet new people. It will be great."

"It might not be great," said Herbert, his fingers gripping the top edges of the quilt and trembling. "It might be t -- t -- terrible."

"Oh, Herbert," said his mother, smoothing down his hair. "That's silly. Please tell me what's bothering you. Why don't you want to go to school today?"

Herbert pulled the quilt back up to his bushy eyebrows. "Because," he said, "I'm afraid."

His mother leaned down and kissed Herbert's forehead. "Herbert, you'll do fine. You'll work hard and make new friends. Besides, you have to go to school today."