School's out, so where's the noise?
School's been out for two weeks now and it's quiet; very quiet here. No more roar of the school bus diesel chugging up the roads with kids hanging out the windows yelling. Its just quiet. As my dad used to say "You can hear the grass growing."
Seems like yesterday when our place was home to every kid on the mountain; every size, every age, all the kids seemed to make their way here for summer. Our place was the place to be for them. They would begin showing up in the morning in pairs of two, then groups of 3 or 4, and then it would continue to escalate during the day. I'd end up with usually a dozen or so kids on any given day around here.
That nasty, dirty, oiled spilled old garage was the haven for the kids to work on their cars, 4 wheelers, whatever they had. That was their domain where I never dared to tread. Lots of revving up motors. The boom box down there blasting so loud I could hear it in the house over. Kids laughing, yelling, running in and out tracking in dirt and mud all over the place. Some had manners, some had none. They had water balloon launchings and these giant super soaker water guns and you didn't go out there unless you planned on getting wet. They all called me "Mom" and I couldn't keep half of their names straight. "I'm not your mother, Who are these people? Where do you live? Who's your mother? Does she know you're here? How about flushing the toilet? Put down the spray paint. Then I'd tell my boys, " That was our dinner! Quit feeding them our dinner! Maybe we can starve them out" "That lunch meat had to last us for a week, not one day, No spray painting, Don't let them pee in the pool, Tell that boy in the blue shorts to stop drowning your brother. No more spray paint. Why is someone taking a nap in my bed? What was that word I heard that kid say? Is that a new cuss word? What does that word mean? Don't you sass me, explain what that word means and no smart mouth, Stop the spray painting. Who are those girls and where's the rest of their clothes? My gosh everything is hanging out of them! Send them up here for a tee shirt! I'll cover them, What do you mean she's in love with you? That is not happening. Do you know how old you are? No more spray paint I mean it, Oh my gosh they are peeing behind the garage! I hope you all run out of spray paint, Did I just hear a smart mouth? You better watch that mouth of yours!"
Chaos., complete and total chaos all summer long. The endless summertime party; for them, not me. But the good part was I knew where my kids were and there was never any problem here with beer or drugs. These were all good kids despite their lack of couth and cleanliness, so complaining on this end was kept to a minimum. Dad would usually call in advance of coming home from work: "Anything happening up there"? That translated into "How many kids are there today, is it safe to come home?" And I'd warn them to tone it way down because "HE" was on the way home. And they usually did.
Forth of July was always insane. I hid; or wanted to. The grill worked over time. I bought burgers and hot dogs and drinks by the case at Sam's club. I had to. The group would show up with even more friends. Who are these kids now? " This one is kin to that one and those over there are with these guys" I shouldn't have bothered to ask. No end to the fireworks going off. Plenty of boom boom in the sky and dancing on the grass. I was always up for dancing on the grass so for that I would come out of hiding. Dang, didn't you save me a burger? So many kids happy; not a care in the world. No visions of adulthood and the crap they would face someday in their future. Just carefree....free. Perfect little years. I was exhausted and worn out, frazzled, always left picking up a disaster of a mess; but the kids were so happy. Guess that was what mom's do and what really counted. This was summer. Every summer for the past several years. Where are they now? Where's those kids? Its so quiet.
This past year there was no school bus noise at all. The last kid to graduate from this side of the mountain was mine; and that was last year; class of 2007. There's no kids left around; big or little. Hasn't been all year. Another summer of quiet. I can walk through the yard and the fields and not one voice to be heard.
The pool is long gone, but you can still see a tiny trace in the ground where it was if you look real close. I try not to go back there but if I do, I look on the ground for left over soda cans and trash that was left; force of habit. The only mud tracked in now is from me and the dogs. Our food is intact and we flush. The only boom box to be heard is mine, perfect harmony pitch of Beach Boys melodies coming for the barn.
I'll still have kids here for Halloween though. They'll come from all over the other sides of the mountain; they always come. They'll make noise. Word gets out that we give full size candy bars! There will be a good show of kids still around and I can't wait to see them in their costumes. Then they will show up to see our Christmas lights. That's a given. The parents always do drive-bys here for our light show. They'll honk and wave; that's what they do and holler out to us if we are outside.
There is some life here on the weekends but not too much. The garage is open and there's a hint of motors being worked on, just a little bit, sometimes, if the Love Child is home. Then there is some boom boom, but not too much. Imagine having to reach up on your toes to hug your child. And when did all those cute little orange freckles disappear off your face? What's with the earrings? Do you need that many?
Amazingly enough, all these kids all remained close friends over the years and that is really nice for them to still have each other. Sometimes I get lucky and the Love Child brings home some of his troop for a while to pick up some fishing rods and the tackle boxes. Then outcomes the food, the drinks, the noise and its almost familiar, but not the same as it was. They don't scream anymore or zoom through the house slamming doors and they flush. It was like one minute they were dripping snots and flinging them at each other and the next minute I'm looking UP into their grown up faces instead of stooping down to speak to them on their level. They still call me Mom and always greet me with big hugs. I got their names straight.
So what happened here? I guess this part of the mountain is a retirement community for now. It sure is looking that way. Just people out puttering around on the mowers, feeding cows, and the occasional banjo picking echos through the woods.
There's no more need for a school bus to come over this way again come September, not until the group from the class of 2007 settles down and starts making babies. Maybe the group will remember where they grew up and bring them on over. We can get a pool again for the next generation. You never know. So what happened here? What happened to all these kids that drove me to the brink and ran me out of extra large size garbage bags to pick up their mess? They grew up. They are in college, some have jobs, some are in the military, a couple got married, and one moved away out of State. All the kids just flat out grew up to become young men and young ladies. They all embarked on a bright new life and new future. All of them. Except one.
School's been out for two weeks now and it's quiet; very quiet here. No more roar of the school bus diesel chugging up the roads with kids hanging out the windows yelling. Its just quiet. As my dad used to say "You can hear the grass growing."
Seems like yesterday when our place was home to every kid on the mountain; every size, every age, all the kids seemed to make their way here for summer. Our place was the place to be for them. They would begin showing up in the morning in pairs of two, then groups of 3 or 4, and then it would continue to escalate during the day. I'd end up with usually a dozen or so kids on any given day around here.
That nasty, dirty, oiled spilled old garage was the haven for the kids to work on their cars, 4 wheelers, whatever they had. That was their domain where I never dared to tread. Lots of revving up motors. The boom box down there blasting so loud I could hear it in the house over. Kids laughing, yelling, running in and out tracking in dirt and mud all over the place. Some had manners, some had none. They had water balloon launchings and these giant super soaker water guns and you didn't go out there unless you planned on getting wet. They all called me "Mom" and I couldn't keep half of their names straight. "I'm not your mother, Who are these people? Where do you live? Who's your mother? Does she know you're here? How about flushing the toilet? Put down the spray paint. Then I'd tell my boys, " That was our dinner! Quit feeding them our dinner! Maybe we can starve them out" "That lunch meat had to last us for a week, not one day, No spray painting, Don't let them pee in the pool, Tell that boy in the blue shorts to stop drowning your brother. No more spray paint. Why is someone taking a nap in my bed? What was that word I heard that kid say? Is that a new cuss word? What does that word mean? Don't you sass me, explain what that word means and no smart mouth, Stop the spray painting. Who are those girls and where's the rest of their clothes? My gosh everything is hanging out of them! Send them up here for a tee shirt! I'll cover them, What do you mean she's in love with you? That is not happening. Do you know how old you are? No more spray paint I mean it, Oh my gosh they are peeing behind the garage! I hope you all run out of spray paint, Did I just hear a smart mouth? You better watch that mouth of yours!"
Chaos., complete and total chaos all summer long. The endless summertime party; for them, not me. But the good part was I knew where my kids were and there was never any problem here with beer or drugs. These were all good kids despite their lack of couth and cleanliness, so complaining on this end was kept to a minimum. Dad would usually call in advance of coming home from work: "Anything happening up there"? That translated into "How many kids are there today, is it safe to come home?" And I'd warn them to tone it way down because "HE" was on the way home. And they usually did.
Forth of July was always insane. I hid; or wanted to. The grill worked over time. I bought burgers and hot dogs and drinks by the case at Sam's club. I had to. The group would show up with even more friends. Who are these kids now? " This one is kin to that one and those over there are with these guys" I shouldn't have bothered to ask. No end to the fireworks going off. Plenty of boom boom in the sky and dancing on the grass. I was always up for dancing on the grass so for that I would come out of hiding. Dang, didn't you save me a burger? So many kids happy; not a care in the world. No visions of adulthood and the crap they would face someday in their future. Just carefree....free. Perfect little years. I was exhausted and worn out, frazzled, always left picking up a disaster of a mess; but the kids were so happy. Guess that was what mom's do and what really counted. This was summer. Every summer for the past several years. Where are they now? Where's those kids? Its so quiet.
This past year there was no school bus noise at all. The last kid to graduate from this side of the mountain was mine; and that was last year; class of 2007. There's no kids left around; big or little. Hasn't been all year. Another summer of quiet. I can walk through the yard and the fields and not one voice to be heard.
The pool is long gone, but you can still see a tiny trace in the ground where it was if you look real close. I try not to go back there but if I do, I look on the ground for left over soda cans and trash that was left; force of habit. The only mud tracked in now is from me and the dogs. Our food is intact and we flush. The only boom box to be heard is mine, perfect harmony pitch of Beach Boys melodies coming for the barn.
I'll still have kids here for Halloween though. They'll come from all over the other sides of the mountain; they always come. They'll make noise. Word gets out that we give full size candy bars! There will be a good show of kids still around and I can't wait to see them in their costumes. Then they will show up to see our Christmas lights. That's a given. The parents always do drive-bys here for our light show. They'll honk and wave; that's what they do and holler out to us if we are outside.
There is some life here on the weekends but not too much. The garage is open and there's a hint of motors being worked on, just a little bit, sometimes, if the Love Child is home. Then there is some boom boom, but not too much. Imagine having to reach up on your toes to hug your child. And when did all those cute little orange freckles disappear off your face? What's with the earrings? Do you need that many?
Amazingly enough, all these kids all remained close friends over the years and that is really nice for them to still have each other. Sometimes I get lucky and the Love Child brings home some of his troop for a while to pick up some fishing rods and the tackle boxes. Then outcomes the food, the drinks, the noise and its almost familiar, but not the same as it was. They don't scream anymore or zoom through the house slamming doors and they flush. It was like one minute they were dripping snots and flinging them at each other and the next minute I'm looking UP into their grown up faces instead of stooping down to speak to them on their level. They still call me Mom and always greet me with big hugs. I got their names straight.
So what happened here? I guess this part of the mountain is a retirement community for now. It sure is looking that way. Just people out puttering around on the mowers, feeding cows, and the occasional banjo picking echos through the woods.
There's no more need for a school bus to come over this way again come September, not until the group from the class of 2007 settles down and starts making babies. Maybe the group will remember where they grew up and bring them on over. We can get a pool again for the next generation. You never know. So what happened here? What happened to all these kids that drove me to the brink and ran me out of extra large size garbage bags to pick up their mess? They grew up. They are in college, some have jobs, some are in the military, a couple got married, and one moved away out of State. All the kids just flat out grew up to become young men and young ladies. They all embarked on a bright new life and new future. All of them. Except one.
