This time of year it's impossible to find clothes for a tween girl. Shorts, tops, bathing suits... the styles jump from Sparkle Unicorn to Call Girl with nothing in between.
This time of year I encourage my kids to lose jackets and sandwich containers at school so I don't have to wash them. The grass looks good enough to eat. Even 3rd grade math can make a person cry.
I'm teaching my kids to forge my signature. Permission slips, practice charts, lunch money accounts, bus passes, fund raisers, camp registrations, team snack schedules, volunteer applications, teacher appreciation sign ups... they can handle it all.
This time of year good parents are as attentive to sleep and nutrition as they were in September. I'm not one of them. If you can walk and talk, you're plenty rested and fed.
It's puddles, polliwogs, peepers, pansies, parks, picnics, paddling, and pedaling.
This time of year I stab safety pins into everything. Ragged backpacks, ripped gym shorts, frayed flashcards, split lunchboxes, torn orchestra music, whatever. I just need them to hold together for a few more weeks.
This time of year I get drunk on the night air. I'd donate an entire playground in exchange for Not.One.More. piece of paper coming home from school. I'd rather spend half a day in the garden than half an hour at my desk.
This time of year is enchanting beyond expectation. And it is worth the wait.
Sally Bacchetta - Freelance Writer
4 comments:
Hilarious and poignant - you're the voice of Erma Bombeck's latest column stuck on our fridge!!
Ha ha Sally! Yes, I can't deal with anymore papers from school! Carol
Hallelujah!
Holly - Thanks. That's high praise!
Carol - Both origin and destination ;).
Cheryl - It sure felt different living it from the other side, didn't it?
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