There are certain big moments everybody remembers. Maybe it’s your first day at work, your first holiday with friends or your first kiss.
I can remember all three – one as a nightmare, one as a daunting experience and one as the most exciting thing ever to happen on the back seat of the number 89 bus.
But I’ll bet none of you can remember your first day at school.
It doesn’t seem five minutes since the day I found out I was going to be a dad for a second (and third) time, but this week the Twins made that first big step.
It’s hard to say quite how nervous a moment it was for them, mainly because they weren’t around to ask – too busy off finding new friends and setting off on new adventures which will last the next seven years.
But for the grown-ups it’s an emotional moment.
Dropping them off at nursery is one thing – into that cosy, comfortable environment which seems to wrap around them like cotton wool.
But school, with the uniform, the rules, the playground packed with bigger, meaner kids – it’s a different kettle of fish.
That’s not the worst of it.
I’ve had seven years to come to terms with my eldest growing up.
It’s hard to ignore.
For a start she’s already approaching shoulder height, and she regularly hands out a kicking to her dear old dad on console games.
She’s made it clear she knows the majority of forbidden words and has attempted to push her luck by using one of them, with inevitable consequence.
But the twins, they’re still babies, aren’t they?
It seems like yesterday they were lying side by side in a cot, like hours since their first words and steps.
Sending them to school is an admission they (and I) are getting older fast.
They might not recall the feeling as they walked into that yard for the first time.
But I can assure you, like the moment they arrived in the world, it’s a landmark which will stay with me forever.