“You smell funny,” Annie said.
It was 7:15 a.m. and I had just tumbled downstairs.
“You need to take a shower,” she said again and hobbled away.
Yes, hobbled. Annie had thrown out her back about two weeks ago and it seemed every time she was close to feeling normal, some spasm would occur. She was therefore pretty cranky. I couldn’t blame her and so, I moved downwind.
Aine was downstairs already, sitting on the couch with a video game. It was the first day of school. Nevermind that it is still August and still officially summertime for about one more month. And nevermind that the hottest days of the year would be happening this week. It was the first day of school. Everyone must bend the knee to the geniuses who came up with the idea of having any school when these are perfectly good days for kids to goof off.
In my day, it was always after September 1, or Labor Day in the U.S., when you’d go back to school. At least a month with the last three letters ending in “ber” made a bit more sense. They belong in that category of cooler weather. August sounds like a time to goof off, or at least get in a siesta.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I sniffed my armpits.
“I don’t smell funny,” I said to myself as another tiny moth flew past me.
We had lately been attacked by some odd moths that seemed to have spontaneously generated in the pantry. Annie had done a cursory investigation, and for a while it seemed the culprit was some dried Fenugreek that started this all. But the bastards were still around. Yesterday I found two moths mating in the front hall. I ended their union with a fast swat. “None of that on my watch,” I said to them. “Go to God or whatever portal you came from.” Indeed, I now had my trusty hand-held Oreck vacuum nearby in the sunroom this morning, ready to spring into action to suck up any of the vermin. Their presence irked me. Like houseguests that wouldn’t leave. I realized that my stress level was slowly rising due to my wife telling me I smelled and a moth. And the fact it was the first day of school.
For those of you who forget or are not parents, the first day of school is preceded by the first shop of the year for school. There is a list of items that are needed for the classroom. These items turn out to be the same items selected by the geniuses who deemed August as a good time to head back to school. Apparently every kid from preschool to the doctorate program at Northwestern must have a ruler, a compass, three notebooks, a three subject notebook and the list goes on. And every parent chooses to shop at the last minute. So we were all exhausted from the night before, gleaning whatever we could find leftover in the Target Store. There was now a new bookbag and several bags filled with folders, kleenex, paper towels, hand sanitizer, sanitary wipes and other objects that made one wonder if your kid was moving to college. It made very little sense. In my day, we were given a peanut butter sandwich, your brother’s old book bag and hand-me-down pens, paper and notebook.
Aine was dressed in the school uniform. That dress code too, was tightened up as we now had a new principal, who unlike the last principal seems a bit more regimented. Even the gym shoes had to be black, which meant a new pair of spangly gym shoes, the kind preferred by a nine year old, sat unused in a cardboard box. Usually I like such regimentation, but this morning, I was irritated by moths and the fact it was the first day of school. “Perhaps the administration should have to wear a uniform,” I thought. “That would level the playing field.”
Capers, our dog, sensed something was up. She usually lets me pet her and then take her out to do her business. But this morning that routine went out the window as she ran around leaping on everyone. Apparently she likes the first day of school or perhaps she thought, like any rational being, that it being August we were planning an outing of some sort. No such luck. I cornered her, put the collar on and got her outside and concentrated on her morning ritual. The sound of the garbage truck in the alley reminded me that I forgot to bring out the trash. “Too late now, “ I told Capers, as I deftly bagged her droppings in the biodegradable dog poop bag, one of the greatest inventions ever made.
Capers ran inside and leapt on Annie. That gave her another back spasm. Since it was hard for her to move, I now was the go-to husband, getting a frying pan, or running to the basement to fetch toilet paper for the upstairs bathroom. I assisted as best as I could, staying some distance from Annie so as to not offend her with my so-called smell.
“We must go now,” Annie announced and we all stopped eating. I grabbed a cup of coffee, a bag of school supplies and Capers on the leash and headed out to the van. Aine slowly put on a bookbag that looked like she was about to climb Mt. Everest.
Since the geniuses who decided school should start today started it today, every parent was out in their car. As were the highschool kids who raced in between cars in their sporty Honda’s and SUV’s. Why they needed to speed to get to highschool was a mystery to me, except perhaps to hang around in the parking lot, showing off their sporty vehicles.
Another mystery was that the whole world decided to start driving at that same time.
A parade was forming on Western Avenue behind a street cleaner. Someone wisely decided that 7:40 a.m. is the time to block traffic on the first day of school. Some other wise guy decided that road construction would take place on the three main north-south arteries between Chicago and Evanston. I could see the driver's faces contorted in agony as they inched along the street. We all were going to be late, except for the high school kids.
Finally, we made it to the school, and I walked with Aine to where her grade was gathering. There, bags of supplies were stacked as if for a safari and uniformed kids were milling around excitedly. I greeted some of the other kid’s parents a bit self-consciously, uncertain if I reeked and had moth carcasses in my hair.
“It’s great to have school start,” said my friend Steve. “Where did the summer go?”
I smiled outwardly, while inwardly my voice was screaming, “it’s still freakin’ here!”
Still, I said goodbye to my daughter, who was already hugging her buddies and giggling in joy. For her, it was the first day of school. For her, it was a day of adventure and possibilities, regardless of the weather, the moths and if her dad stinks.
When I got home, I took a shower, killed some moths and wrote this. Yeah, that’s all I did because it’s only a half-day for the first day of school. I skipped my gym class so I can get the kid on time. I remember back in my day…
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