There’s an urgency in the air around my part of the woods. A threat to the way we have been living these past few months. And its very real. It will change the way we eat, the way we sleep, the way we work and play.
It’s called back to school.
I first saw very real signs of this threat back in July (JULY!) when the Back to School catalogs were stuffed in my mailbox like some sort of military propaganda. Slowly, over the weeks following, store shelf displays of bubbles, sand buckets and little water wings gave way to notebooks and backpacks. And now, the last and most tell tale sign has arrived: there are Mums on display at the grocery store.
And so I have begun the prepping. I geared up with coupons and promo cards and hit the local office supply store, Staples, like a commando. I was up at the crack of dawn on a week day with my school supply list in hand. I moved with precision through the aisles, knowing that within a half hour, the mobs would be here. Once those munitions were secured, I packed up the boys into the transport and hit the shoe stores, then the tailor and finally, the barber. Each little sun-bleached curl that fell to the floor was a wiper goodbye to the lazy days we had just enjoyed.
Now I have begun to prepare my home. Calendars have been stocked with appointments and schedules through the end of the year, juice boxes are piled high, ready for the onslaught of needy lunchboxes. I have begun filling the cupboards with Teddy Grams and pretzels on sale and I have my own private stock of over 300 K-cup coffee pods for the dawn missions that are imminent. Crockpot recipes are filling my Pinboards and there are lightweight jackets ready in the closet to fend off the first chills of September.
Its a day I am not looking forward to. But I put on a brave face for my little soldiers, feign an enthusiasm for the change about to come. The will walk into their new classrooms. a year older. Another summer gone. I hope they remember it well. Because the sounds of their laughter, the sights of their late morning bead heads, the smell of smores… all that marvelous summer magic is still painfully fresh in my heart. And I miss it already.