So why the melancholy? We visited my daughter’s school-to-be earlier for an introductory session, and, while it was an exciting moment, the emotion hit me, and I emerged soggy-cheeked. Of course it’s the natural order of things, and it’s brilliant that she’s heading to school in September: it’s a lovely school, we are very lucky, and she’s hyped for it. She’s definitely ready. But am I? Sitting in the school hall with its parquet floor and very specific smell of recently cooked school dinners, coffee urns and gym equipment, looking at a stage where questions about ‘school readiness’ were projected onto the screen by the excellent teachers, my stomach flipped in a way that would indicate, possibly not. I pictured my spirited, wilful little girl with her wild blonde hair and strong eyebrows and expressive, curious eyes, in a neat school uniform, and I felt the tears suddenly leaking from my eyes hot and fast. I was hoping that the other parents, who I’ll be in this with for next seven years, didn’t notice an…