What could be worse than the end of Summer? Back to School shopping!

You're sitting outside in the early afternoon, trying to enjoy the last days of summer, when a shout comes from the house: "Get in here and get dressed-- we're going shopping!"

Oh, no! It's the dreaded Back to School death march! You're going to be dragged from store to store while your mother picks out clothes that are guaranteed to get you beaten up at school! Why oh WHY does she have such a propensity for buying you 'highwater' jeans?

"NOW!" You slowly shuffle up to your room and dress, picking out loose-fitting clothes that will be easy to remove fifteen or twenty times. After being yelled at to "fix your shirt!", you get into the car and try not to think about the horrendous 'styles' that you will be forced to try on at the store. As you press your face against the car window, you see the other kids in the neighborhood still outside, playing as if they didn't have a care in the world. They wave and laugh as you go by, but you know that it's only a matter of time before their mothers abduct them and cart them off to the store, too.

Your mother is already in a foul mood from the traffic as your car pulls into the jammed parking lot. You hear all kinds of warnings about your 'behavior' as she leads you into the clothing store. You have to stand there mutely as she selects what SHE wants you to wear, and she loads you down with five hangers full of outfits. You are ordered to try them on in the fitting room, and it's here that the death march begins in earnest.

You aren't sure why new clothes need to be full of straight pins, and no matter how carefully you scan the clothes before you try them on, there are always at least two pins that scratch you as you pull the stiff new shirts over your head. You pray to God that your mother won't make you get this one, because you can't imagine walking around in this thing for six hours of school. You walk out of the dressing room and 'model' this nightmare for your mother, who makes a face. Good! This one won't be going home with you! But you still have four other atrocities to try on, and you know chances are good that your mother will pick at least one of them to torture you with for the next ten months.

After several trips in and out of different stores, your back is aching, your mother is getting progressively meaner, and your feet are hurting. As if she's read your mind, your mother announces that your next stop is the shoe store. Good Lord, will it never end?

You enter the shoe store, and give thanks for an open chair. You're also glad that you have rather large feet, so you're spared from having to wear the 'cutesy' shoes. Your mother actually asks for your opinion here, but quickly discards it when she finds a few pairs of shoes that will "match" most of your clothes. By now, most of the fight is out of you, and you numbly do the 'shoe walk' up and down the aisle, limping slightly because you only have the right shoe on. Apparently the shoe store feels you can't be trusted to put both shoes on, because you might sprint out of the store without paying. As if you could sprint ANYWHERE, after trying on fifteen outfits! Your mother purchases the shoes, and tells you that she's out of money, so you'll be going home.

As you walk out to the car, you see that it's still a few hours before sunset, and you'll have time to relax outside before dinner. You roll the window down and enjoy the breeze on your face. The death march is over, and you've survived. As if reading your mind again, your mother says, "We're done for TODAY... but we still need winter jackets and boots!" It never ends! But you'll worry about that later. There's still some lazing around to do before school starts... butterflies to chase, lightning bugs to catch, clouds to watch. Summer isn't over until the first school bell rings.