“Just grand, Mom. I’m late on my first day of school,” huffed Jack as we sped past an ambulance trying to make it to Northwest Laurens Elementary before the tardy bell rang. “It’s all your brother’s fault for passing fifth grade and going on to middle school, which is clear across the county,” I deflected. “If he’d been more like Uncle Clarence, we wouldn’t be seeing the inside of WLMS until at least 2016. Dang smart aleck kid.”
And just like that, another school year has begun. I hate how my kids are growing up so fast and there’s not a darn thing I can do about it. I almost wrote on Facebook this morning “Andrew is starting sixth grade! Where did my baby go?” But then I remembered posting that exact status yesterday (or three years ago) when he started third grade. My snarky college coworker, now remote FB friend Samantha, commented “He went to third grade. That’s where he went.” So I commented back “I always hated you. Your face looks like a marshmallow…
