Six More First Days of School (Brian Katcher)

 

The other day I was speaking to my father, when he made a comment about lazy Sundays. I responded that it was Saturday. You see, my father is retired. To him, all days are the same. He'll ask me what my plans for the evening are, and be surprised when they're usually just staying at home because we have to work tomorrow.

He didn't used to be like that. He's a retired school superintendent and would work seventy hour weeks when he was employed. Now, at age 81, he spends his time riding his bike, drinking in bars, and partying with friends.

In a few weeks I'll be embarking on my 29th year as a teacher, while my wife will begin her 22nd. We have six more first days of school left. Then, sometime in May of 2031, we'll clean out or classrooms, tell the staff my secrets of computer repair (did you turn it off and back on again?) and then never work again. We'll become nocturnal monkey people. We'll start communicating with hand gestures and grunts until we become fully telepathic and speak mentally. We'll stop getting dressed. We'll build models of Devil's Tower out of mashed potatoes. We'll retry our abortive attempts to teach the cats to square dance, like we did during COVID. 

Our daughter will be stating college soon, and should be graduated by the time we retire. Then we can call her up and remind her that we haven't been to work in years.