It's hard-wired into me.
There comes a moment in late July when I begin thinking about the start of school.
The days grow a bit shorter. I start counting precious summer weekends. And then there are all those back-to-school television commercials that still make me want to buy new notebooks.
Like many of you, I have always enjoyed school. When I was a girl, I adored my teachers. I remember being a second grader in Miss O’Neil’s class and shyly handing her an invitation to dinner. I don’t remember the exact language in my note, but I do recall the postscript.
“Could you let me know right away?” I asked. “I don’t want my mother to clean the house for nothing.”