"Just look at it this way," my daughter said as I grumbled about how long the final 200 yards of the morning drive was taking. "School isn't just preparing us for the future. They're preparing us for our future commutes."
Before anyone starts racing to their keyboard to send a note about how this wouldn't happen if I put her on the school bus, my daughter attends out of district, so car transport is our only option. As it apparently must be with about 80 percent of her school.
I was fortunate to grow up on the same street as my school, so I didn't have to leave the house until a few minutes before the final bell. My daughter has never been so lucky. Other than her final year of grade school, she's had to deal with long bus rides or traffic.
And now she's started her junior year of high school. It seems impossible that she's so near the end of this part of her life, and of mine.
Back-to-school shopping was different this year. Bittersweet. Instead of my usually maniacal comparison shopping and complaining over prices, I couldn't stop from thinking, "Only one more year to do this."
As my daughter heaped more supplies into our shopping cart than she could possibly use, I fought back a different sort of tears than the ones that usually come when prying open my wallet.
Funny how that same sentiment works differently when applied to school traffic in the morning. When rather than tears, the thought of only one more year brings comfort instead.
Reach Karin Fuller via email at karinful...@gmail.com.