They're here. The Last Days.

The last days of school. For kids, teachers, parents...these are heady times. One of our own kids is especially happy to be staring summer break in the face. Let's call him or her Mookie, just for the sake of this story...you know, "the names have been changed to protect the innocent"or, in this case, guilty. Mookie begins sliding into the holiday break each December around Thanksgiving. Mookie starts thinking ahead to summer around April 1. In between is spring break which usually begins, in Mookie's head, on or about New Year's Day. When you figure in things like days off for teacher in-service or conferences, Mookie gets about seven days a semester of dedicated class time. But, back to the looming summer break.

I think the last day of school actually meant more to kids when I was little. For example, now, in many schools, students can wear shorts to school just about anytime. When I was a student, the last day of school was the only day you were allowed to bare your usually skinny, usually pale winter legs to the world. When I was in school in a small town, you lived in fear that any little misstep would certainly end up being told to your mother or father at the grocery store and, possibly, reported in the paper that week, and, if grievous enough, become the centerpiece for the sermon in church the following Sunday. Everything was going into your "permanent file" which sounded very serious. I doubted the existence of this "file" until, a couple years ago, I got a parking ticket and, with the ticket was a mention of a notorious spitwad incident in fourth grade. So, when you were given "permission," unspoken, to wear shorts and, bring water-balloons...well, that was the best. You knew it was summer when you left school totally soaked.

Summer also meant independence when I was young. More than now, in some ways. Sometimes it seems we just trade one list of places our kids have to be and when for a new list of commitments. For me and my friends, summer was spent mostly outdoors...making up games...running all over...walking to the pool...grabbing ice-cream from the high school kid selling it from a wagon he pulled with his bike. After a brief break for supper, we'd all be back on the street to play kick-the-can late into the evening. As a parent, I know all the good reasons we like to have our kids be involved in summer-time activities...there are safety concerns...we worry that they may fall behind if they're not doing all the stuff their friends seem to be doing...too many dangerous roads to stumble onto if not supervised...and many more things that go through a parent's mind. But, all of that, makes me wish my kids could more readily know what my lazy summers were like.

Not to sound like an old fuddy-duddy...although, by using the phrase "fuddy-duddy" I think I automatically qualify...but I think, because summer was such a totally different thing than the school-year for me and my friends, we appreciated it more. It's like cartoons. Back when you could only see them for a couple hours on a Saturday morning, they were treasured more than now when they are available 24/7.

Actually, maybe there is hope of returning to a lazier, less programmed, summer. Remember Mookie? Well, Mookie seems quite content to take it easy and have simple fun for the next several weeks. The only thing on Mookie's agenda is planning for the Labor Day holiday. In the meantime, I have to finish filling water balloons. Old habits die hard.