Tomorrow is the last day of school.
Tomorrow my son will end his 4th grade year.
Tomorrow he will only have one more year of Elementary School and elementary problems.
Tomorrow will be the last time Jared will be Taelor's teacher.
I love the last week of school. I especially love the last day of school. I get to experience this end of school excitement on three levels. The first is having a son in school. He anticipates the summer vacation like I anticipate a date with his dad.
The second is having a husband as a teacher. Very little sadness...some gratitude to NOT be teaching certain students again...and a lot of relief, excitement, and giddiness.
The word "giddiness" brings me to my third level of end of school madness. We live across the street from a junior high. I actually love it and hate it. I love the ginormous field that is our extended front yard...I love that practically no one is around during the summer months...and I love that we don't have neighbors across the street that can see into our windows. I hate the garbage (about 15 chip bags blow our way each day)....and I hate that in the spring "love is in the air"( enough love that we tend to close all the blinds during the lunch hour).
But I digress.
There is a certain restraint that each teacher or educator possesses. It is in their manner, in their walk and in their posture. A certain dignity if you will of educational employ. They are the masters of the intellectual mind, the sorcerers of the imagination, the discoverers of brilliance. With this being said...a certain madness descends on even the strictest of educators on the last day of school.
Believe me...I have witnessed it.
I see those teachers walking into the school day in and day out somber and ready to inspire, but that last day....watch out. Across the street was a perfect example of that phenomenon. It was the last day of school. There were girls hugging, guys shrugging, and lots of year book signing with promises of summer re acquaintance. The students were lingering....stalling the inevitable. Suddenly on the field, in the maintenance vehicle no less, came 4 male teachers. To be honest, based on their driving, you would have thought they were teenagers aside from their beer bellies and receding hairlines. There were driving in a crisscross pattern, going faster than you think a maintenance vehicle should. One of the teachers had a megaphone yelling and laughing (a bit on the hysterical side) "Go Home Go Home School is over Go Home".
The students, obviously never having witnessed such a scene, stood watching. The teachers maniacally driving and fit with laughter were oblivious to the stunned students. They continued shouting and then drove off into the parking lot. The students looked at each other, shrugged, and meandered home.
I love the last day of school.
