I didn’t have much on my mind regarding the upcoming school year. I’ll probably have more to say after Monday once the school year officially starts.
Tonight, however, marks a sort of preliminary event. We just returned from a back to school Open House. It’s where Mrs. M. and I learn who Zoe’s new teacher is. It’s also when Zoe learns who is in her class – which is more important to her than who is teaching said class.
Another much anticipated event during Open House is the receipt of the back to school supply list.
Back to school shopping – that yearly stimulation of the nation’s economy. Oh how I miss my St. Nick’s days (Sadly, this is the best link I can offer as my old elementary school is nowhere to be found on the Net.).
Back then, supply shopping equated to grabbing a couple of worn down pencils from the junk drawer in the kitchen and maybe a pen or two acquired from one of the hotels where John Sr. did his catering moonlighting.
Now, back to school shopping is an event.
We’ve already purchased a back pack that’s got more zippers and compartments than a pair of my parachute pants from the mid 80s.
Over the next couple of days we’ll be purchasing paper, pens, binders and a few add-ons to accommodate this year’s extra talented and gifted course load.
We also have to stock up on hand soap and hand sanitizer.
Is it me, or were our hands cleaner or just our immune systems stronger back in the 70s?
Back to school wardrobe shopping is a story for another day.
We’re still coming to terms with having to walk a few feet down the aisle, away from the big girl shoes toward the small women section. And yes, it’s not just the feet that are growing – excuse me while I rack a round in the chamber of my 12-gauge.
It all begins Monday.
I’ll see you on the corner at the bus stop around 6:40 and don’t forget the Purell