“No more pencils, no more books. No more teacher’s dirty looks.” Does anyone else remember singing that ditty at the end of the school year? Not the heavy metal, Alice Cooper version. Just the sing-song, nursery-rhyme-like kids’ version. No? Maybe it was a Long Island thing. Anyway … Monday was our…
Eleven: The In-Between Year
A few days ago, my first-born turned 11 years old without much fanfare. Unlike his first birthday 10 years ago, there was no elaborate celebration, no oversized cake, no massive pile of gifts and certainly no fuzzy red monster or balloon-making clown to entertain his friends. Nope. We ushered in…