Like so many people who look back on their time at school, I think of it fondly. Through that Vaseline covered lens that makes even the wrinkly of faces look smooth and lovely again. Even the time I got punched in the face or had to excuse myself from Mr. Vasil's economics class because I got my period. Ah, the good times.
I'm now watching my own kids get ready for school themselves (2 in high school one in college) and wonder what soul-crushing or humiliating things they'll remember 31 years from now. Hopefully they'll be tempered by the amazing memories. Like my first ever line in a play, onstage, in front of everybody: "Wait! Stop! Please don't take that boy away... stop one moment!!" (Oliver Twist), and the day I got a note shoved in my locker by the coolest girl in class, asking me to hang out with her and her friends (ohmygodohmygod...)
Whatever they remember or however they recall their high school days, I have to try not to feel left out when they don't share that stuff with me. I never did with my parents and just because I think I'm the "cool mum" doesn't mean they tell me anything, worse luck. I just hope they have good friends to talk to and an outlet somewhere to vent. All that to say that I wish them the best this school year and I hope it's memorable in every sense of the word.