Ahhh, the sweet, sweet sound of no one running his mouth non-stop about exploding volcanoes or portals or netherworlds. The moment we’ve all been waiting for is upon us; Back to school. But I have to say as much as I complained about being in lock down with my kids for weeks on end, the final countdown of summer was really quite nice.
Look, I’m as surprised as anybody. Who knew I could actually enjoy spending time with my kids? But they’re turning into some pretty entertaining people, and, miraculously, they really didn’t annoy me all that much. On the first day, I found myself feeling unusually calm and confident.
Having procured the million and one items on the list of school supplies, gone back-to-school shopping for the latest fashions, bought new backpacks and lunchboxes, secured the correct gym attire, found combination locks for the school lockers, and gotten everybody, myself included, ready on time, I felt rather proud, poised and competent for what may have been the first time in my life. I’d actually managed to do it all. I was a marvel to behold. Until… I stepped out onto my front porch, where my mad skillz and self-esteem where promptly smashed to bits.
The entire world was already gaily skipping down the street to school – early – and my neighbor across the street was in the middle of conducting a photo shoot on her front lawn.
Goddamn it, I thought, surveying the scene from the spot on the porch where I stopped short. I’m supposed to take pictures.
Um, so I forgot to take pictures of my kids on the first day of school. They’ve been going to school for like five years now so… I’m good. I mean how many first day of school pictures do you really need?
Then I thought better of it. Good parents are always trying to show me up, and I just couldn’t have it. Not this year. But I’d already locked the front door with my iphone inside, and I couldn’t jeopardize my perfect timing on the first day.
As my brain raced for a solution, it hit me. There was one person who’d never be caught without her cell phone.
I turned to my daughter and said, “Hand over your phone. I want to get a picture of you and your brother on the first day.” She swiftly presented her phone and the two assembled in front of the steps.
At that, my son made a variety of angry faces and generally refused to cooperate so I couldn’t even get a nice photo by which to recall and cherish this special moment.
The important thing, though, is that I did get a picture.
Because what kind of mom would forget to take a picture of her kids on the first day of school?