The “back to school” drill is not only hard on kids, but parents as well. What’s really bad are the dreams that parents seem to start having around this time of year.
I had one last night. Actually, I had several, since I kept waking up, falling back to sleep and then dreaming the same blasted dream again.
It was a variation on an old familiar theme. I was back in high school, only this time I was not a slim, salutatorian, but instead I was trapped in my present-day, balding, middle-age body (usually I at least get the benefit of a younger former self). I had been stripped of my diploma, bachelors and doctorate and sent back for remedial training in chemistry. As I looked at my chemistry assigment, my breathing grew more labored, my pulse thready and my eyes started crossing, producing double the trouble. I began to panic. I located my best friend in high school (the valedictorian) and asked for help. He looked at me kinda funny (like, what are you doing here you dirty old man?), turned and walked away.
I’m awake now (I think) and stumbling around for a cup of coffee. With several more years of school, including college, left for my three, I anticipate many more such sleepless nights.
For all you amateur Sigmund Freuds out there, this is your chance.