Voices from the Backseat

In case you hadn't noticed, it's almost time for the little people to head back to school. As if the numerous back to school sales and advertisements weren't enough, the naturally occurring signs of the season's demise are all around us.  And for those previously mentioned little people, the Kid Version of Summer has definitely begun to show its age.  It's gotten a little bit frayed, worn out, and ready to go in the hand-me-down pile.  I've taken a brief inventory of some of the indicators that Kid Summer is ready for retirement.

 

Top ten indicators that Kid Summer is finished:  

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1. There are no more complete sets of intact flip flops anywhere in the house.  They've either all broken, been chewed up by the dog, or disappeared in kicked-off glee.  Because I refuse to buy new ones, my people will shuffle through these last few days with mismatched flip flops held together with duct tape.  Classy.

2. The list of "summer expectations" is no where to be found.  It was a noble effort, and for a month or so we were pretty good.  No electronics before X,Y,Z, keep up with personal hygiene, rudimentary chores.  About July the list was popsicle stained and rumpled on the front of the fridge.  When I checked today, it was simply gone, a mysterious smeared handprint in its wake.

3. The sunscreens are all 5/7 empty and choked with sand.  They're gross, I don't want them in my bag, but there they are.

4. The girls' hair has achieved that "end-of-summer" crispness that only a ruthless trim will take care of.  They swam every day.  The personal hygiene got a little lax.  Instead of the special Swimmer's Wellness shampoo, I'm pretty sure they were using Old Spice Body Wash on their hair the majority of the time.

5. There are no areas of their arms and legs that haven't sustained a mosquito bite or injury.  It's hard to tell what their actual skin tone is.  Bronze tan, white healing scab, red bite, black dirt.  Did I mention the personal hygiene challenges?

6. There are 12 incomplete projects ranging from half-done jigsaws to slime to living room forts slowly decaying in various corners of the house.  Any horizontal surface is occupied by a project that GOD FORBID I dismantle, despite all indications that they will never be finished.  And, because the little people are around all the time, I can't launch my usual stealth dismantling attack.

7. All of the sidewalk chalks are itty bitty nubs.  FYI, I hate chalk.  I hate how it feels, I refuse to pick it up, and I hate watching the kids draw with it.   But the danger of accidental fingernail scrapeage that these nubbins impart?  Shudder.  Time to close the driveway gallery for the season.

8. We've gone through all of the "Outdoor Shenanigans."  Every summer, Jimmy stocks up on stuff that makes him quite popular with the under 10 set.  We've reached that sad point when all of the glow bracelets, rubber band missiles, stomp rockets, and sparklers are gone.  All that's left at the bottom of the Shenanigans bin are some of those lame snappers.

9. Morning preparations seems to drag well into the afternoon.  To the little people, "get dressed and get ready for the day" has come to mean something very far from what I intend.  Lack of practice has lulled them into thinking that I mean "sit on the couch in your pajamas until noon, and by the way I was just kidding about getting yourself breakfast and I'm here to prepare lunch for you on an emergency basis whenever it suits you."  Dear Lord, please return my routine to me.  I am incapable of holding it together during Kid Summer.

10. They have, on occasion, looked just a liiiiiiiiiitle bit B-O-R-E-D.

 

Do you think that a review of these clues will be enough to truly convince them that it's time to head back to school?