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That Time Again



I was up bright and early yesterday morning, out on the road at 6:30 on my way to some fasting blood tests for Nugget (We passed with flying colors! Woo Hoo!). On my way, I drove by a young boy, maybe 12 years old, sitting on a boulder with his backpack on the side of the road. It dawned on me then that he was waiting for the school bus. I certainly don’t remember going to school that early, do you? But then, I’ve moved so far past going to school that many things are undoubtedly tucked into the far recesses of my memory. Well, aside from the dream where I can’t remember my locker combination. Or the one where I miss the bus. Or the one where it’s the first day of school and I can’t find my classes. Hmmm…..

Seeing that young boy reminded me of this White Stripes ditty, so appropriate for this time of year. For all of you returning to school or with loved ones venturing back (my Pop and younger sister Theo are, as I write, en route to Notre Dame, where she’ll be returning for her sophomore year), this goes out to you.