Around late July I can feel the music cueing up. My feet start tapping. I’m humming the tune.
The Kids-Go-Back-to-School-Hallelujah Song.
By August I usually proclaim that on that first day of school, I will be dancing. One year I think I even said I’d be doing so on top of a table.
Guess what? I don’t feel like dancing.
It was a great summer, forgetting the whole broken wrist drama that is still unfolding. The kids are older and helped a lot around the house. They rarely bickered. We had a great family vacation.
Because of the wrist, I’m tired. There have been a lot of appointments, way too much running around town. The pain increased, the healing ceased, and now it looks like surgery is around the bend.
School is around the corner. I can see the bus.
But this year, I’ll skip the dance.
How about you? Are you dancing, or sad to see the kids go back to school?
