Field day. A classic rite of passage for every elementary schooler. In case they didn’t realize it was the last week of school, now they do. Because they had field day. And, that’s what field day means.
(Wouldn’t be able to begin to tell you where my kids are here as I could barely find them in the sea of children in real life. Put that sea of children in a tiny photo and they are just little pixels on a screen.)
You go out to a big field for the whole day and do relay races of all types, have good fun attempting three-legged races, play tug o’ war and dodgeball, hide under a giant parachute. The only thing missing today from all my childhood field day memories was releasing balloons. Remember that? We’d have our name and your school’s address with the request for the finder to mail the paper tag back in. The one whose balloon was returned from the farthest distance would get some prize. I always loved that. It beat standing in a giant circle holding hands singing “Greatest Love of All” which we had to do one year.
No balloons, and no Whitney Houston. We got to hear some rockin’ songs on the loud speaker instead. All while the kids sweat like crazy in the heat while a few poor moms and little siblings watch and sweat too.
Poor Drew went so far to announce he was dead.
But, no worries. Lydia was quick to come to his field-day-rescue.
What a relief to come home and relax in my cool house.
Oh yeah, that’s right. No air conditioning.
It might be a long summer.
I LOVED field day at school. Looks like fun! What? No AC? I can’t imagine. We’ve been around 90 for about 2 weeks now.