The Rear End

I Never Did Homecoming

maybe I was wrong to avoid that big parking lot party

Mike Paulus, illustrated by Beth Czech |

OK, so, if I hear one more person utter the phrase I can’t believe summer’s almost over! … they’re gonna get a hearty face-push right into the nearest body of freezing cold water. Yes, I get it – the summer has simply flown by. I can’t believe it, either, man. I’m stunned. My god, it’s already the middle of August. Where did the summer go? Blah blah blah, didn’t even go swimming, blah blah freaking blah. 

This happens every year, people – you should have seen it coming. Don’t you remember feeling the same way back in the summer of 2008? 2007? Come on, you must remember feeling this way in the summer of 2006, right? (That was a fast one.) Seriously, at any point in your life do you remember saying, “Man, summer is taking forever. Is it still July? Wow, feels like it should be late September or something. Wanna have another water balloon fight? Me neither.”

That said, I can’t believe summer’s almost over. If you think your summer’s been zooming past, trying having a kid like I did like my wife did. Talk about a blur. I haven’t even had time to complain about the heat and humidity as much as I’d like to.

And now, it’s already back-to-school season. Has been for a while now. There was a time in my life where back-to-school season would kick into full effect, and I wouldn’t even notice. That’s no longer the case. For the past few months, every time I walk into Target, there’s a short little girl walking next to me asking what those giant crayons hanging from the ceiling are for. I tell her, “School is starting soon, and you can buy crayons here.” And then I hear this:

    Why is school starting soon? Why is there September? Why is there crayons, Daddy? Why can you buy crayons, Daddy? Where are the crayons, Daddy? Why is there school? Where is the ceiling? Why is there a ceiling, Daddy? What if there was no ceiling? What if they didn’t sell crayons, Daddy? Why can you buy crayons? What if we had crayons, Daddy? Are you frustrated, Daddy? What if you were frustrated, Daddy?


    Or something along those lines. I’m in no hurry to send my little girl off to school, but it sure seems like a good idea sometimes – especially when she asks questions like, “Why is there September?” for 20 minutes straight. I know we’ll eventually be pushing her out the door strapped to a giant backpack, and before we can say, “Do your homework,” she’ll be heading off to college. I sure hope she likes school and college.

My own college career was less than classic. I never did a lot of the “normal” college stuff. I never lived in the dorms. I never played Ultimate Frisbee. I never got into a whacky, cafeteria-wide food fight. I never “studied all night long” so I could “get good grades.”

And I never went to a single house party. I didn’t even go to homecoming. Growing up in Eau Claire, the giant party in the Carson Park parking lot before the UWEC Homecoming game was seen as more of an annoyance than something to look forward to. All the townies just complained about the leftover mess and the lingering cloud of beer stench.

So when I actually attended UWEC, the game, the parties, and even the parade were just off my radar. I’d like to say that I was busy doing something interesting like, um, writing a book, or playing drums in a Neil Diamond cover band, or extreme skydiving … but I wasn’t. I just never really thought about things like homecoming. And honestly, I kind of wish I had.

I know things have changed as of late, and the homecoming parking lot festivities have been tamed down, but that just makes me regret not experiencing it when I had the chance. And since I probably definitely can’t pass for college kid, there’s only one thing to do: force my kid to do all things I never did so I can live vicariously through them. That’s want this parenting stuff is all about, right? I know she’s only three years old, but maybe I can start building a positive image of things like homecoming – so 15 years from now, when she’s attending a prestigious college, she’ll give them a chance. Because 15 years from now, I’m sure house parties will be totally safe and positive experiences where nothing negative happens.

Of course, I’ll probably have to field 1,000 questions like “Why is there keg stands?” So maybe not