Thursday, May 19, 2016
Last Day of School, 2016 Style
On the last day of school, when they left the house for the bus, my son turned to me.
Aren't you going to take a picture?
Mind you, this is at the crack of dawn on a day when dawn may or may not crack because it's buffered by clouds, so my brain may not have been fully engaged. Dude, I don't even have my phone, I said. Do you want a picture?
Meh. I'm good.
On the last day of school, they came home and asked to visit the neighborhood park that's just about completed. It was twelve hours later, on a gray again day where the sun had shone for a few hours before hiding again, where the air never warmed up where it was chilly and my first inclination was to tell them to wait until morning, wait until I could go with them.
My second inclination was to remember that they are plenty old enough to go themselves, that an hour of unsupervised time was not too much to ask so Yes, be back in an hour, bring the dog and they were off on adventures.
They all slept well last night.
We woke up again to a gray day, rainy and chilly, the rain the soft kind that's persistent but hard to capture with my phone's camera but easily seen on the scrubby evergreen in the front yard. It's nine and I'm going to rouse them awake, almost three hours later than their alarm yesterday, and I'm thinking of the first day of summer vacation and their expectations and Can we go to the park!? and Can we go to the science museum!? and Can we go to get fast food and play in the indoor playground!? from the mouths of my still-sleepy, sweaty-headed babies who would wake up an hour before their school wake up time because it was summer and the days were wide open.
But today, I wake up kids reluctant to leave the comfort of their bubbles on this gray day, where nine is still too early. What's that smell? they ask, and I still see their sleep-sweaty baby heads and hear their tiny voices.
Bacon, I say.
Can we eat bacon and have chocolate milk and watch Netflix all day!? they ask and they're still my sleepy babies but no longer tiny and they still ply me with hugs when they're too tired to remember that they're too old for such things and once again, I'm thankful for summer.