First day at school was traumatic for most concerned. My birthday was a week after the start of the academic year, so I should have stayed at home until the following September. But my mother was Welsh. So on my fifth birthday my mother marched me into the headmistress's office, announced "'E's five today. 'E's yours", and marched straight out again. So I was left with Miss Heaven (and never was someone more misnamed) who rang the education office to find out that, technically, she had to take me. So I was put into a class, to find out I was the only one who could read and do sums. The advantage of a Welsh mother. Miss Heaven hated me thereafter.
And I was expected to get home by myself. Cross one road on the "lollipop" and left, right, left opposite our house.
Bill