Next month, my daughter graduates from her two-day-a-week preschool class. She’s met all the requirements and can begin three-day-a-week preschool in the fall.

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Those of you chuckling, please hold your laughter. This is big stuff. We’re talking about the child who screamed for the month of September because she hated school. The child who, when I took her to her classroom, clung to me like a baby monkey clings to its mother. I seriously doubted the success of “Operation Preschool.” Yet seven months later, I’m waving a banner that says “Mission Complete.”

It was important for my daughter to attend preschool. It’s not because she now knows her colors, matches shapes, and uses scissors. Although I’m happy for her academic achievements, it’s much more. To those who doubted my decision, I have two words for you: Ranch dressing.

You see, like many 3-year-olds, mine is a picky eater, refusing to eat most healthy foods. And like most worrywart parents, I research books and Web sites and bug my pediatrician for solutions. A common trick for vegetables is introducing them with a side of ranch dressing. Because parenting protocol suggests that children need to try foods an average of 13 times before possibly liking them, I’ve periodically repeated this delicacy, only to receive the same scrunched-nose-thumbs-down review every time. 

So imagine my surprise one night at dinner when my daughter spied a dollop of ranch dressing on her plate and gasped with delight. It turns out she had been enjoying ranch dressing for many weeks at school because the other kids do. “They even dip their graham crackers in it,” her teacher told me at our conference. That is so different. Completely disgusting, but different, so it’s progress.

Someday I might have convinced my daughter that ranch dressing works, but her friends had a faster impact. She likely would have potty trained this year without preschool. But the communal bathroom break, giving her the chance to see others in action, nudged her a bit quicker. When they studied the rain forest, the kids, including mine, touched or ate a piece of kiwi. The same child who only eats peeled and sliced red apples sampled kiwi!

Friends impacting and influencing friends — in preschool, it’s called monkey-see-monkey-do, and in some cases is a dream. In high school it’s called peer pressure, and often is a nightmare. I know those days are only an eye blink away, but let me enjoy my moment watching my daughter enjoy her ranch dressing.

Kelli Robinson is a stay-at-home mother of two living in Mooresville. E-mail her at .

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