Two weeks from today, school starts.
We’ll return to the land of alarms blaring at unholy hours. There will be questions of, “What do you mean, ‘You didn’t eat any breakfast?’ I left a Pop Tart sitting on the kitchen counter for you! What more do you want from me?” We’ll need to buy school supplies. There will be new textbooks, and homework assignments that make my head spin, and just me at home to entertain the baby. There will be new friends made and complaints about what the cooks put in the school lunches. There will be arguments over why a thirteen-year-old boy still needs to head to bed before 9 PM, even though he thinks he’s reached the point of manhood and midnight curfews and Hai Karate in his bathroom cabinet.
And I’ll have a 7th grader, people.
For now, though, we’re simply soaking up the final days of summer… cherishing it before it’s over. I’m one of those moms who actually enjoys having my big kid home during the day. And I certainly enjoy having his friends at our house, too.
Today the small herd of them moved in and did what boys do best: they played video games and laughed until their sides hurt. They laughed until I was laughing, because it was impossible to hear their shrieks and not giggle to myself. Their laughter was contagious.
They also played with Thing 2 on the deck.
(The organic part helped balance out the fact that I fed them preservatives and powdered cheese dust.)
(Kellen’s mama doesn’t use powdered cheese dust. The diamonds in her heavenly crown will probably be larger than mine will be, because she prepares her macaroni and cheese like Elvis’ mother did: from scratch and with genuine cheese made from real milk.)
(Also? Well, when the boys were in the second grade, I fed Kellen mac and cheese for lunch at our house. He loved it. He was eight years old, and he ate almost an entire box by himself. He declared his undying love to me and said that it was the VERY BEST macaroni he’d ever had in his life. He LITERALLY and REALLY and TRULY begged me to give his mom the recipe, so that she could make it at home.)
(So… I did. My recipe said, “Go to the grocery store. Buy a box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. Read the back of the box and prepare as directed.”)
(I’m still hanging my head in shame, y’all.)
As much as they wished it otherwise, these big boys aren’t even close to that weight yet, so they slid.
And they discovered that maybe their rumps are just a little too wide for the slide.