My parents were always giddy this time of year.
Usually, if we were on one of our annual summer roadtrips, dad would start commenting on all the goldenrod growing alongside whatever highway or byway we were on. “Look at all that goldenrod,” he’d say. “It’s school-bus colored — must be time to go back soon!” And my brother, sister and I would groan from the back seat. Didn’t he know summers were endless?
But then mom would chime in with “School Days,” waving her arms back and forth as if she were conducting an imaginary choir — which probably resembled the one shown below — big bows, floral-print dresses and all:
Of course, now I miss school days — the smell of a brand new box of crayons, the crack of the spine of those marble composition books and the line of freshly sharpened pencils in my school box. The hopes that I might get to sit next to Derek Leeuwrik, who somehow from fourth grade to sixth grade went from a giant-glasses-wearing nerd to sporty, cool, not-at-all-likely-to-talk-to-a-wild-haired-bookish-safety-patrol-sort of girl. Sigh.
Where was I?
Good tidings to all those who are school bound — from my niece and brother who start their first weeks of college to my little neighbor who started kindergarten today (and all my nephews in between).
May the squirrels be with you.
