One of the most difficult things I ever had to do as a kid was write a story about what I had done over the summer. We often moved during the summer months when I was a kid. Dad would get transferred to another job site, and the family would pack up whatever we had unpacked and off we would go.

I accepted these moves as “what we did every summer.” From first grade through fourth grade I attended seven different schools—12 by the time I graduated. So my story of what I did over the summer would start with, “We moved.”

For the past four years, our grandsons have come to spend the summer with us. I make the best plans. The refrigerator will be organized so they know what snacks they can have. There will be a list of chores for which they are responsible. We will limit TV and computer game time. We will set aside a time for reading every day. We will keep a journal of our summertime activities. We will spend most of our days outdoors. We’ll visit local museums and historic sites. We’ll take lots of pictures and help them compile a scrapbook.

My intent is multifaceted: 1) They will not lose any of the skills they learned in school the previous year; 2) They develop good eating and work habits; and 3) they have a record of what they did over the summer in case they have to write a story about it.

I admit that many of my plans fall by the wayside most of the time. The refrigerator doesn’t get organized. Television and computer time isn’t limited. We don’t always read or write every day. However, we do spend time outdoors. We do visit interesting places. We do take pictures. And while the boys don’t write about their experiences, they do talk about them.

One night after we had been on a day-long excursion to the zoo and botanical garden, their mother called. “What did you do today?” “Oh, nothing.” “Did Grandpa and Grandma take you anywhere?” “Yeah.” “Where did you go?” “The zoo.” “What did you see?” “Animals. We ate hot dogs, and when they dropped in the dirt we fed them to the animals.” “Did you go anywhere else?” “Yeah. We went to see some plants.” “Did you like that?” “No. I got stuck with a thorn and I fell down and scraped my knee.”

When we take them home, we usually stop at various national parks and historic sites along the way. One year our stops were mostly along the Oregon and Mormon Trails. We explained the petroglyphs found among Indian ruins. We talked about how difficult it was for the settlers heading west. As we walked the interpretive trails, we talked about land forms and how they challenged and helped the settlers at the same time. We were pleased that the boys were so attentive. Their mom asked them what they had seen. “Grandpa and Grandma took us to see some old stuff,” was their reply.

So now I don’t make such grand plans. We try to mix our excursions with things the boys want to do (get dirty, run, play, and make noise). We know they will remember the gross stuff (the bug crawling up the wall), the food, and the pool at the hotel. They will write about what they did this summer with their memories, not ours.

Editor’s Note: Marge has three children and two grandchildren. She spent nearly 25 years as a substitute teacher in grades pre-K to nine; five years teaching preschool; and 10 years running her own tutoring business. Her bachelor’s and master’s degrees are in education. She also has volunteered for many years for Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, and Little League.