We spent last week school shopping for pens and pencils and dry eraser markers and folders and notebooks and spirals and post-it notes and pencil sharpeners.
Can we just pretend like we didn’t?
It was fun and we checked off the list and filled the cart and I like a polka dotted locker shelf as much as the next person.
But you see.
I’m not sure I’m ready.
Wasn’t it just Valentine’s o’clock?
The years used to take forever.
It would be Saint Patrick’s Day and you’d wait for 27 light years to pass and then finally Thomas Jefferson’s birthday would roll around.
Forget about it. Those holidays seemed like it would take Captain Jean Luc Picard and the Starship Enterprise to reach them.
The years seem to speed by faster and faster at lightning speed….
….and I want to press the pause button and yell at them to stop.
I want to grab them by the tail and tell them I need an extra minute to catch my breath and adjust.
Adjust to lip gloss shopping with the twins.
Adjust to a driver’s license test today for my son.
Adjust to taking cartoons off the channel rotation.
Adjust to baby steps turning into long-distance running.
All these thoughts and 10 billion more ran through my head as we pushed that overflowing cart of school supplies to the car. We loaded everything in, turned on the air conditioning and sat there in the parking lot in silence for a moment.
I looked at the twins and smiled and reached for my phone to take a picture.
I wanted to capture this moment.
I wanted to remember. So that one day I could look at this snapshot and think of the time when school shopping was a thing.
I held out my hand for the phone and one of the twins grabbed it.
Laughing, I squeezed it and said, “I was reaching for my phone.”
“I know,” she said. “But my hand is so much better.”
And I’m holding on tight.