I forgot to mention about the playdate...
Because of grade recess, I picked up Madge first, on the way to get Coco. A rare occurrence.
When his classroom opened and we went in, he asked to have a playdate with a friend, the kid who cries more than I'm comfortable with. Only in class, though, so playdates are okay.
I said okay and told Madge about it. She said, "That's not the 'Ow, my wiener' kid, is it?"
I said no, and the playdate was greenlighted.
The "Ow, my wiener" kid needs explanation, I know. Apparently he smacks himself in his privates and then shouts, "Ow, my wieeeeeener," to the delight of his friends.
They're so precocious nowadays. I don't think I started using crotchal pain as a conversational stimulus until my mid-twenties.