One of my favorite seasons is coming up. The season of patio salads, sundresses, and art fairs.

Before I get there, though, I have to survive prom season.

It’s not that I’m going to prom, it’s that I live in the area where all the prom dates happen. Every year around this time, there are girls in satin dresses and boys in tuxes with Chucks on dashing into traffic without waiting for their turn to cross the street. There are often boys in second-hand cars whose sole reason for being at that moment is to impress their passengers by way of nearly killing people when they drive recklessly. And also girls who have gotten upset and sit out by the fountains crying.

Every year at this time, it’s like my whole neighborhood becomes a public high school.

I don’t grudge them the merriment or the hormone charged excitement that is dating. All I wish, and parents I sure hope you’ve been coaching them on this, is that they understand that high school is a short, nasty turn on the watchface of life. If you survive it, then you’ll go on to do great things with wonderful people.

Be good, prom-goers, but if you can’t be good, then be safe.