The kids go back to school this week, and suddenly another summer has vaporized.
I noticed our point-and-shoot Panasonic camera on the dining-room table this morning and scolded myself for not taking more photos this summer of my two sons, who insist on outgrowing at least one personality and one shoe size per season.
Of the handful of photos we have from this summer, my favorite is an image made by a friend of our 4-year-old son taking a dip in a blue plastic bucket. Only his head is visible. His tongue is sticking out, which captures the essence of his Summer of Defiance. I've mentally captioned the photo: "Redneck Hot Tub."
Other memories will have to live on in my mind's eye, I guess. I might as well caption some of these audio and visual memories while they are still fresh.
So, here goes.
Preschool growl. My 4-year-old son has discovered that the most diplomatic form of domestic protest is the growl.
"Son, it's time for bed."
"Grrrrrrr!"
"Son, no more popsicles today."
"Grrrrrr!"
He knows an outright tantrum will earn him a timeout in his room. Fighting with his brother will bring even stiffer punishment. But a growl is a safe middle ground.
Bottomless pit. For my 9-year-old son, it has been the Summer of Eating Ravenously. At a birthday-party sleepover he apparently consumed no fewer than six hot dogs and became something of a freak show.
"You ate what!" I said when he got home, to which he merely rubbed his pancake-flat stomach and smiled, noting matter-of-factly, "I was hungry, Dad."
Profile in courage. Last Sunday, I was summoned to the yard to witness one of a family's miracles, the shedding of the training wheels.
First came assurances that Mommy would never let go of the bike -- no way, never -- then, of course, she did. Legs churning, eyes wide, our 4-year-old son managed to remain upright for about 20 yards.
The family erupted in jazz hands, whoops and hallelujahs.
Lawn and order. In my childhood summers, I spent countless hours pushing a lawn mower. This summer, for the first time, I allowed my 9-year-old son to give our push mower a try.
Watching him struggle to make right angles with the mower, his little arms vibrating, felt like an out-of-body experience. It represented the circle of life captured in the most pedestrian of tasks.
Two things: If you have young children, why not take a few minutes today to write down some of your favorite memories from summer 2011. Then tuck your notes away in a photo album or family Bible where you might come across the precious time capsule years from now.
If your children are grown, set this newspaper aside for a minute, close your eyes and think back to when they were small. See if your mind's eye can still remember their popsicle smiles and skinned knees.
Memories are family heirlooms. There's megapixel magic right behind your eyes.
Contact Mark Kennedy at mkennedy@timesfreepress.com or 423-767-6645.