Monday, August 25, 2008
First Day Of School
About a week ago, I was looking out the window from my little office here in my house. There is an enormous maple across the street, and it kind of marks the seasons for me. In this case, the season is autumn, and even though it was 88 degrees, the maple knew what was coming. Just there, on one side of its massive girth of green leaves, the yellowish-red edges of a dozen or so leaves let me know: Get ready, honey, because it's getting here faster than you think -- the first day of school.
What is it about that first day of school? Here I am, nearly 50, and I still feel that panic: Do I have the right kind of notebook? Did I study for the test? Granted, I have a rising sixth grader to bring that panic home to me. But still, I'm marked for life with my own latent version of first-day-of-school-itis. Come Labor Day, I will have bought a nice new notebook of my own, along with a box of pencils. I'll tell myself that this stuff is for the workshop. I know the real truth: I'm still making sure that Ms. Runkle won't call me out for forgetting to bring whatever it was I DID forget to bring to her class in 1971.
At least I'm not worried about who my teacher will be or who I'll hang out with on the playground at recess. I think. I will miss sleeping in, though. And making s'mores in the microwave. (Summer staples here.) Who wouldn't?