It’s the last day of school.
I know … I know—last day of school! Summer! Pool parties and ice cream and hot days and …
I agree. Summer’s great; no complains. It’s just that, well, I really love dropping my kids off at school every morning. It’s my absolute favorite part of the day. Particularly, from 8:25 to 8:32ish, the casual stroll from the car to the school’s front door. In an odd sense—even though there are kids everywhere, screaming and laughing and yapping—it’s the quietest of moments. The three of us just walk and chat. About anything, everything. Teachers. Friends. Food. Sports. It’s a frozen gap of time, where the world goes silent and still and life is simply a father and his children.
I also dig the banter. The waves to other parents. The exchanges with familiar kids. High-fiving Brendon. Asking Billy which sports jersey he’s wearing. Pretending to grab Ashley and Emily’s hair. Talking trash with the principal and the PTA president. Exchanging information. I could make that walk all day and be pretty content.
Alas, it’s over for the school year.