Tomorrow is their last day.
So, they will dress up in costumes, spray each other with water pistols and dance in the hallways.
They'll fight authority with colorful streamers and face paint.
They'll chase each other around, dive onto the slip and slide on the front lawn, and maybe even start a spontaneous parade. They'll cheer and chant and tell everyone that they can't wait to get out of here - all at the same time wondering what happens next.
And then they'll stop. They'll pour over their yearbooks and remember when. They'll give me hugs and ask me to never forget them. I'll tell them I never will, and I'll mean it.
They'll tell stories about those times in 3rd grade when they played kickball at recess, the crazy sleep-overs where nobody ever slept, and they'll remember the first time they stepped into the high school. It seemed so big then, and everyone there even bigger. They'll realize - some for the very first time - that you can want something and fear it at the same time. In the back of their minds a little voice will tell them it's time to grow up just a little bit. (I would advise them to ignore that voice for a while).
There will be hugs and laughter. There will be tears.
And some of them will be mine.
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