Those Were The Best Days of My Life?

Recently Eric attended his first sleep over at a friend’s house. He was thrilled. I was petrified.

After I dropped him off and hugged him goodbye, I spent most of the night worrying. Would Eric be able to sleep without his favorite bear? Would he embarrass me by jumping on the couch at his friend’s house? Would I receive a bill for a priceless vase he broke in a game of tackle football in the dining room? Obviously, I have some serious social anxiety issues.

Eric, age 7, doesn’t have any social apprehensions. He’s at the golden age of his youth. All of the kids on the block and everyone in his class are friends. There are no “dumb kids.” There are no “popular kids.” There are no nerds or geeks. They are all just kids.

I don’t have the heart to tell him that things are going to change drastically when he gets to middle school. Let him enjoy utopia while it lasts. I’m also not sure I’m ready, or equipped, to see him through those tumultuous times without contributing to the damage.

My own social anxiety reached its apex during my sophomore year of High School. I was sitting in my World Cultures class and Sister Barbara Marie (a.k.a Bubba) was lecturing at us. Bubba was a short round lady with stern eyes. She never laughed and her lips were always turned down at the corner. When she taught, she spoke in a shrill cackle.

I can’t recall her entire sermon, but Bubba's gist was that “these are the best days of your life, so appreciate it while you can.” And “it’s all downhill from here.”

The best days of my life? I buried my head in my arms. That had to be the most depressing thing I ever heard.

Earlier that day a senior had knocked all my books out of my arms and scattered them in the hallway. My English homework had disappeared in the fray. Later, I had an argument with my best friend. She wasn’t speaking to me and I’d probably be stuck eating lunch by myself. My next period involved a geometry quiz that I had forgotten to study for. And in less than two weeks I would be sixteen and I still had never been on a real date.

The best days of my life?

I was full of hormones and riddled with angst. I had the social acumen of a wild orangutan. In the evolutionary scale of High School, I fell just above “the kid who always gets stuffed inside the locker.” These were definitely not the best days of my life.

Its not that I didn't have any good times in high school. I went to football games and school socials. I passed notes in class and giggled about cute boys. And I had some great friends who made me laugh. It was just, with all the anguish over fitting in, it was hard to tell the difference between the worst days and the best days.

Lucky for me, Bubba was wrong. The four years I spent skulking about the hallowed high school halls did not even come close to being the best days of my life. The best days, it turns out, were still to come.

College was a blast. I met a bunch of friends I could count on and expanded my view of the world. My twenties were crazy and fun. I learned how to let loose and go with the flow. My thirties were outstanding. I settled down and started my family. My forties have been homey and happy.

The best days of my life didn't involve algebra tests and acne. The best days of my life are eating birthday cake at Chuck E Cheese and building sand castles on the beach. The best days of my life are playing Pokemon and princess dress up. The best days of my life are happening right now.