The email request for Colin’s class Valentine’s Day party came early this week. It occurred to me this was the last time I’d ponder whether his classmates would prefer fruit juice or soda, or if I’d made enough portions of whatever for each kid plus the teacher, her aide and any other parents who might attend.

The specter of junior high school looms, and Colin’s our youngest, so after this there will be no more class parties. Next year, he’s as likely to get stuffed in a locker as come home with frosting on his shirt from someone’s birthday cupcake.

Just about the time I felt a twinge of nostalgia, a friend posted a Facebook photo of Valentine s’mores packets she’s preparing for her own son to share with classmates. He’s a fair amount younger than either of our kids, and her excitement for the holiday is bound to be higher. Still, even back in the day, I was never tempted to do anything more than help fold and sign and stick and stuff a couple of handfuls of bright colored cards into someone’s backpack just before school.