Are We There Yet?
Oh, joy! It's summertime and no more fractions
Lori Clinch

Is it just me, or are you having a hard time believing that summer vacation is practically upon us?

It seems like just yesterday that I armed my despondent children with crisp, new crayons, pencils and tablets. As they cried into their Kleenex supply and looked toward the heavens, asking "Why us?," I gently patted them on the back and told them that time would pass quickly.

In the midst of their grief, I had tried to lift their spirits by purchasing the best wardrobe that $19.99 would allow.

But they wouldn't be bought.

Even the idea of a new protractor couldn't console them. As we approached the school grounds, their eyes were filled with tears, their hearts were heavy laden, and the very thought of sitting at a desk sickened them. Still, I sent them off with a smile and left them to enjoy all the learning and education that the teachers could give to them.

Just seems like yesterday, all right. And yet, the school year can't end quickly enough as far as I'm concerned.

One would think that a mother of four rowdy and highly energetic boys would be on the brink of depression at the mere suggestion of summer vacation. Not so. In fact, I welcome it with open arms. Oh sure, there will be noise and chaos. The house will be filled to the brim with children and overflowing with energy, happiness and sports paraphernalia. But do you know what it won't have?

School books.

That's right. No more correlative expressions, elaborate compositions, and we as a family will be able to pass the mustard without having to wrap our minds around biological equations.

Lately the homework around here has been enough to make a good woman put herself in a long timeout with a stiff drink.

Yes sir, the boys may be loud and they may be rowdy, but I look forward to being able to deal with the day without searching a math book to ascertain what three minus "c" to the third power divided by nine adds up to.

Nor will we have to incorporate integers and common denominators into our calculations. I treasure the thought of getting through a day without fractions. Why, I've had to deal with more math than you can shake a No. 2 pencil at.

Then there's history. There is nothing that a mother, such as myself, dreads more than when her teenage son plunks a 50-pound book (complete with maps and study guides) in her lap and suggests, "I think it's time for you and I to bond while we brush me up on the Articles of Confederation."

Don't even get me started on English. You would think that a woman who generates an income, albeit small, from writing would know a predicate from a preposition. But I have to admit that I have some fundamental gaps in my knowledge of grammar. One can only imagine my child's dismay when I had to rummage through his book to look up the definition for an oxymoron.

Worse yet, the end of the year gets downright pricey. It cost me upwards of $20 to get the kids out the door today - contributions, field trips, and if Huey didn't pay Billie back the $3 that he borrowed last week, then Billie was going to start charging him interest. (Billie is the son of a businessman and apparently has no problem understanding integers.)

When it comes to summer vacation, I say bring it on. Bring me the noise, the ballparks and the children calling for play dates. Bring me bare feet, skinned knees and stubbed toes. Send me a kid who's crying and another who's threatening with "I'm gonna tell Mom."

I can take it.

I may tire quickly of the bouncing balls and empty cupboards, but I won't miss those English terms and school projects. The fact that summer is so rapidly approaching makes me long to run outside and enjoy a silent scream.

Now, that right there is an oxymoron.

Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book "Are We There Yet?" You can reach her at www.loriclinch.com.