Going to School
By Charles Cloninger
Atlanta, Georgia

When we moved to Atlanta my son, Craig, was a year younger than
most of the children in our neighborhood. When school started and the
other kids were gone during the day he was very unhappy not to have other children to play with as he had during the summer. After we had explained that they were at school and Craig could not go until the next year he was very unhappy.

At the end of the following summer he was so happy to know he was old enough to go to school he was about to burst. We took him to get "school" clothes, supplies, backpacks, etc. He put them all on a shelf of his "school" items.

Naturally my wife had tears in her eyes as she walked him to the bus stop at the end of the street. Craig, even more excited, waved goodbye at the back window of the bus.

That night he regaled us with stories of the day at school. His teacher,
his new friends, the new kool aide and the time spent at recess. School was definately a sucess.

The next morning my wife had a hard time getting Craig up and dressed and asked me to finish the chore. I went in and shook him several times but he still didn't wake up. I finally walked in, shook him by the leg and said "Get up Craig, you have to go to school".

He raised himself up by one arm, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and said in astonishment "Again?".

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