My four-year-old, Jacob, is no shrinking violet. Really, I’m thrilled that he is so comfortable in his own skin. But does he have to be so loud about it?
Case in point. We were at the neighborhood playground a few weeks ago. It was a warm, sunny day in early September. Lots of kids playing. Lots of parents milling around. Jacob sprinted to the top of the slide and belted out, “I’M HIGH AS A SANDWICH!”
Labor Day has come and gone. And all across the land parents are putting away the summer whites, dropping a week’s pay at Staples for school supplies and then secretly doing the happy dance. My kids are still too young for elementary school. But parents, I feel you.
Don’t get me wrong, we had a lovely summer– long afternoons at the playground, cooling off at the beach and the spray park, weekly pilgrimages to the local farmer’s market, and trips to see family and friends. So why am I okay with watching those days slip away? Essentially it boils down to this: I am old and infirm and summer requires a LOT of extra energy.