A couple of weeks ago, Egon remarked, apropos of nothing: I’ve seen my friends every day this summer.
And by friends, he meant ALL of them. There has been a permanent pile of bikes in the backyard, and an ongoing battle to keep edibles, any edibles, in the house for any length of time.
Leading up to the return to school, his comments have run thusly:
3 weeks before school starts:
We should go buy school supplies. Pencils, notebooks. Stuff.
(We agree that perhaps we still have some time to do that.)
1 week before school starts:
Can we go buy school supplies? I need all of them.
(But then vanishes in a cloud of teenage boys.)
5 days before school starts:
Tomorrow, let’s go shopping for school supplies.
(I don’t see him at all the following day.)
3 days before school starts:
Tomorrow we need to go shopping. OK? It’s a date?
(When offered a trip to Office Depot, he demurs, saying he’s got plans.)
2 days before school starts:
We notice that his shoe is no longer actually intact. We decide to make a trip to the shoe store in addition to office supply stores.
But not right now, OK? Friends are coming over.
1 day before school starts:
I come home early from work to take him shopping. While there are a half-dozen bikes on the back lawn, and all doors are unlocked, there is noone about. I call his cellphone and leave the message that I am home and ready to shop. 10 minutes later, he returns the call -
I just learned from Jack that we don’t need to get supplies until after the first day.
I ask about perhaps buying shoes that actually cover his feet.
That can wait.
He is wringing every last sun-drenched second of freedom out of the summer before being forced to go to bed before 3 am, and having to do homework before video games.