Look back, moving on

When I was a kid, Field Day meant a single file march down Mamaroneck Avenue to Gedney Park for serious competition in the sweltering, late-June heat. There were ribbon winners for sure, but mostly losers in the various contests which all seemed tailored to showcasing Jason Mazzurco’s gymnastics-fueled superiority. Not that I’m bitter or anything. I edged him out in the broad jump one year though (he was pretty short). I proudly relayed this to Margo in a pep talk the night before her Field Day.

We call it home.

VELMA FAR MER

Resident since 2014

“Saint Anne’s Terrace has a beautiful family atmosphere. I’m very happy to be a part of this community ”

• Ser ving Buckhead community for over 30 years • Minutes from OK Café

• Quiet residential neighborhood • Apartments tailored to personal needs

CALL

She laughed because at her school it’s not a contest at all. No awards are doled out and the kids couldn’t care less. Per tradition, the parents of the graduating 3rd graders show up en masse to douse the kids with Super Soakers for a grand finale. Man, I’m really going to miss this little school.

I started writing this column when Elliott was a kindergartner, flash mob dancing with the six-foot owl mascot at his first community circle. Now he’s two schools hence and a rising 7th grader. Yeesh. It makes me want to freeze time at best and at least, savor Margo’s last couple weeks at Oakhurst Elementary. They should set up onion dicing stations at the Moving On Ceremony. I know it’s irrational since it is only 3rd grade but if we’re going to be crying anyway, we might as well make fresh salsa for the parties that weekend.