Or “On Feeling Blue, Quite Literally”
It was homecoming weekend at my kids’ school, and as part of the 9th Grade parents committee, I helped run the photo booth at the dance.
The theme for the night was “Blue Out,” though perhaps that fact is self-evident.
After the above photo was taken, I spent most of the evening steering clear of my sons. They appreciated this, because Hello? My mom’s a chaperone?! I was more than happy to hang out with the other parents, chatting about how different this dance was from the ones we attended.
They don’t do “couples” at this school. The dance had a DJ but the kids danced in big groups. There were snacks & games & ping pong & pizza…
Now it’s Monday and, well, it feels like Monday. Tell me again why we don’t pack Monday’s lunch on Sunday night? This morning found me racing madly about, looking for food to supplement Cate’s lone mug of tea. Hastily, I made a turkey roll-up and grabbed a couple of homemade Larabars out of the fridge.
I unzipped her lunch bag to stuff them in and found…five unwashed, unsliced cucumbers from our garden. “Really, Cate?” I asked her. “You’re bringing a bunch of cucumbers?”
Cate looked baffled and her brother burst out laughing. I was actually sorry to ruin the joke.
Finally, happy official start of Autumn! We had circled September 22nd on the calendar because my preschooler was ever-so-excited for the first day of fall. “So…today is this day?” he asked, pointed to the 23rd. “Yep,” I told him. “And tomorrow will be the 24th.”
“What’s ‘tomorrow’?” he wanted to know.
“‘Tomorrow’ is the day after today,” I told him. “So tonight, you’ll go to bed…and when you wake up, it will be tomorrow.”
He thought about that one long and hard.
And then he flipped the calendar ahead to the last page. “So at the end of the days, is this when I go to heaven?”
(which is very sweet)
Yes, my love, that is the ultimate goal. At the end of our days, we hope to all go to hezzen.