The charge in the air hasn’t changed at school yet. Next week, though, it will. Sound waves will crest higher and dip lower. Knees will itch to jump. There will be more of everything at pick-up time. More tears and clumsiness. Meaner scuffles over sandbox toys. Heartier laughs, and wider smiles.
Thirty days hold off the start of summer vacation. They’ll tear away like calendar pages in an old black and white film. Parents already feel the frenzy. Local churches and camps have been winding us up for weeks with their ads in the grass islands of parking lots. “Vacation Bible School” they announce. Cartoon jungle animals hug the bright red font on the signs. Instead of writing the number down, I picture windowless church activity rooms with painted concrete block walls, fluorescent lights, and vinyl chairs. A list of summer childcare to-dos jams my mental switchboard while I idle at the stoplight.
The children learn that school’s winding down because of the special events that take place. Mother’s Day lunches, school concerts and plays all signal a growing culmination, a sort of Spring harvest of intention, effort, and realization. Kids overhear their parents talking about summer trips and swimming lessons. It’s a bittersweet transition, especially for those graduating, or otherwise moving on.
So this is the week I grab my camera and arrive a little early to pick up my children. I sit on the bench unnoticed because they’re not looking for me yet. Both of my son’s feet press firmly on the pedals, and my daughter’s gaze stays fixed on her book. Soon we’ll have a wonderful summer, and a photo album of the way we were at school.
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