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September 05, 2006

180 and counting

Are there many things more sad than the last day of summer vacation? Everything about the summer is old except for the new clothes and notebooks you got at the beginning of August; you don't want to swim because it's too depressing to think about putting on a bathing suit, which is looking kind of sprung and faded anyway; there's nothing on television except for the Jerry Lewis Telethon, and if ever summer had a death knell, that's it.

And tomorrow it will be back to the same old grind. A scheduled life where consciousness comes way, way too early every morning when the alarm's awful buzz forces your eyes open. Homework, and crowded school corridors, and the leaves falling off the trees, and no more hanging out or sleeping until two in the afternoon and forgetting what day of the week it is.

Moo's alarm went off this morning while it was still dark out. It's raining--pouring, really, and it will rain all day.
"Good morning sweetie," I said.
"Ugh."
His hair was in his face. He poured himself the biggest bowl of Raisin Bran I've ever seen anybody eat (is there something I should know about his digestion?). Sat down at the kitchen table, sighed. I showed him the article in the Post about how teenagers should not listen to their iPods or talk on the phone or watch TV while they do homework, got a snort. Hair still in his face, shorts, t-shirt and flip-flops on, he barely caught the bus in time after racing around trying to find a pen before I drove him to the end of the road, where all the other kids' moms were parked. One down.

Herself got out of bed at 7:00, sniffing from her summer cold, which just keeps hanging on. She smells sweet, like shampoo and soap, and is too nervous, she says, to eat breakfast. She asks me to fix her hair. The boy she has liked since first grade is in her class this year, and she needs to look good.
"Mom, do you think I'm pretty?"
I answer in the affirmative.
"Do you think somebody'd be crazy not to think I'm pretty?"
I look at her. She's serious. I can't think how to answer. While the cats chase each other around upstairs, she is laying out her first-day-of-school outfit.

It's raining even harder than it was before. I ought to be working but instead I'm doing this, and looking out the window thinking about how hideous the commute will be for the next couple of weeks. Summer vacation is over.

Posted by JudyLa at 07:30 AM | Comments (0)