Today my first-grader climbed into the car and, before the van door slid shut, proudly announced: "Mom, today we had a lockdown."
She dug in her backpack for her snack without missing a beat. "Mom, do you know what lockdowns are for?" she asked in-between bites.
"Tell me," I say, remembering the kindergarten explanation she'd given me last year. Lockdowns are in case a big dog gets loose inside the school.
"Well, lockdowns are to keep us safe from humans who kill people."
I nearly drove off the road as she continued telling me where in her school they go and what they will do.
"Some humans kill people so we lock down and we have to be silent. Our teacher will just hold her finger in front of her lips so no one hears her telling us to be quiet. It's hard to be silent but we have to do it."
I let her talk and then her first-grade carpool buddy piped in: His class didn't have a lockdown today, but he's had them, too.
Of course, I say.