Trares
The start of the new school year has brought back a few different aspects of daily life I could do without.
Trying to pack a creative yet nutritious lunch that Anthony won’t be bored with, for example. Or the homework assignments that he treats as if they were literal torture. Or combing through the deluge of school communications, all coming from different offices and email accounts, to make sure we’re not missing something.
But then again, the new year has revived one of my favorite daily rituals — the morning drop-off line for car riders.
Since Anthony started going to his current school two years ago, we’ve been a car-rider family. Our home is just a few football fields away from the school; if we really had our act together, on nice fall mornings, we could walk (we haven’t reached that level of morning organization yet).
So each day, we load up Anthony’s backpack, buckle him into his seat and set off for a minutes-long ride to the school.
The drop-off line comes with its own minor frustrations. Inevitably, the process confuses some people and slows the process down. Some people don’t drop off in the right location, causing more confusion. Cars wrap around the designated drive in a long line, requiring us to wait.
But it’s that last one that has become a small blessing every morning. Situating ourselves in the line, Anthony and I get a chance to talk uninterrupted — no screen time, no toys, nothing but dad and son chatting about whatever.
And those conversations go to some interesting places. He asks about songs on the radio, the near-constant construction going on in our neighborhood and what I’m eating for lunch that day. One time, as the sun was rising across the school, he wondered why he couldn’t stare at the sun.
I got to break out the old-yet-true parent-ism: Because you’ll go blind, I told him, emphasizing it with, “Please don’t look at the sun.”
On a sunny yet foggy morning last week, we looked out across the field of corn growing by the school. The fog had condensed over the towering stalks, even if just a few feet above it, the air was clear.
Anthony scrunched his face up then asked, “Why is it only foggy on top of the corn?”
I told him I wasn’t sure, but thought it had to do with the moisture in the field and the cooler morning temperature. He seemed satisfied with the answer.
Our conversations are short and usually are just a series of questions and answers. But even for those 10 minutes sitting in traffic, it’s a nice way to connect.
Summer break was fun, but I hadn’t realized how much I missed this.
What a great way to start out a weekday.
Ryan Trares is a senior reporter and columnist for the Daily Journal. Send comments to [email protected].
