My twin brother and I grew up watching a lot of television and some of my fondest memories of childhood include eating a giant bowlful of cereal, reciting the alphabet with Captain Kangaroo, or singing along with The Electric Company and wishing that we lived, you know, closer to Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood.

In those days - yes, way before home videos and dvd players - these programs not only provided for entertainment, they were most children's first (and only) pre-school experience.

After school, as well.

It's not that our parents didn't care about our education - I remember their making every effort to attend teacher conferences, before heading out to their night jobs, together - but, they didn't have the time, or the energy, to get too deeply involved with the goings-on in the classroom and thought it should be treated as a separate entity, from our home life, entirely.

Until their grandchildren were born.

"Looks, it's Mini-me's Mom!"

My 5-year-old's teacher tried to quiet her kindergarten class and finish writing their sentences - uh, in kindergarten, I'm pretty sure we learned our alphabet and napped - as some of the children turned and waved, I had a hard time not waving back.

"Hello...nice to see you, again...oh, of course I remember you...yes, you can have one, too...my, arent' you all just soooo huggy, today!"

They formed a semi-circle around the rocking chair - oooh, how I love this "picture parent" classroom gig - and I folded my hands and placed them in my lap.

"Now, does anyone else need a hug, before we begin?"

6, 7, and then 8 more children got up and we spent nearly the entire balance of my alloted time, hugging.

"Okay, then...now that we are all feeling warm and fuzzy, inside...I wonder if anyone can tell me, who is your favorite author?"

Mini-me raised her hand.

"You are, Momma!"

The kids all gave my youngest daughter a wide-eyed stare, and I believe even a few jaws dropped, as they quickly turned their heads toward me.

"Well...um...actually, I haven't written a book...uh...yet."

Mini-me placed her hands on her hips and, well, she looked as if she were ready to crow, or something.

"No, I ah-wedy told-did my cwass that, si-wee, but you are wee-wee pwetty, and so nice, and we could teach you, pro-luh-bee."

Hugs, all around.

My kids and I have come a long way and - wasn't it just yesterday, when we were singing along with Sesame Street - today, I am constantly amazed at how much more worldly, they all seem, and I'm just glad to be given a chance to be a part of it, at all.

As will their Grandparents - they've been invited into my son's 2nd grade class - and once they've been served tea and hear their 8-year-old Grandson recite his poetry, today, pro-luh-bee!