Here they are, the boys of summer, in a final fling with swimming as the season winds down.
Last night, when I changed out of my work clothes, I put on a pair of sweatpants. First time in a long time. We were all grateful for the cool night air, ready for the change.
I hear the radio reporters calling our upcoming election a "toss up," and I wonder if fear of change or a longing for it will win the day.
We could see, in our son's body language as he headed off to school this year, the difference that familiarity makes. Sure, there would be new kids in his class... but a few of the faces would belong to friends. His classroom teacher would be new... but the lunch ladies hadn't gone anywhere. And gym class, while it offered new games and new rules, was still the same place, requiring the same shoes and shorts. He is ready for the new stuff, because he takes comfort in the old. One night we'll read a book he's never seen before. The next night, it's back to an old favorite.
This is how we grow.