I arrived at the school this afternoon to pick up the kids and met up with my youngest daughter, who at 6 years old is suddenly very foal-like with long skinny legs and a near-galloping gait. I walked alongside her back to the classroom and she rushed inside, gathered her backpack, and game back out with her teacher alongside.

"Here, Mom! I made this bee-yoo-tee-ful ring for you."

I admired the craftmanship that she had clearly put into this ginormous diamond shaped cut-out, with the attached loop of paper and cellophane tape. I particularly like the fact that she colored both sides of the diamond with her trademarked vigorous scrubbing motion in a frosty blue.

Her teacher grinned at me as I tried to slip it on - alas, the sizing was off, and it was a tight squeeze on the top of my pinky finger. I admired it and showed it off to a few of the other parents standing near by. They all murmured appreciatively.

"I was going to make a heart, but I couldn't get it right, so I made a diamond. Diamonds are better anyway."

Her teacher said, "Training 'em young, I see?"

I winked and headed off to the other classrooms, after asking my six-year-old to wear the ring for me until we got home.

And yes, you may now call me J.Lau.