Oh, how quickly the summer vibe goes away. That easy-going, relaxed, smooth as a new car’s coat of paint feeling that the mornings had.

“Had,” as in past tense. What your life used to be. Calm. Peaceful. Tranquil. People rising slowly. Birds singing sweetly in the trees. A kitchen all to myself in the morning and no one with anyplace to go, and no hurry to get there.

When you are the only one working during the summer, mornings are absolute bliss. My wife is a pre-school teacher, and my 16-year-old daughter’s only summer responsibility was to see if watching too many shows on Netflix could make her TV to burst into flames.

Nobody got up before 7. Sometimes 8. Who am I kidding? There were days when I didn’t see a soul before heading off to work. This meant I “had” run of the house. Run of the kitchen. Run of the vibe. All the bird singing to myself.

Had!

For millions of Americans across the country, the great end-of-the-school-year wind down has commenced. That time when two great tides of emotion crest simultaneously: the joy, elation and relief of school almost being out and the absolute freakout that comes when you realize how much there is to do BEFORE it lets out.

It’s in full-effect in my house. We are a family ruled by education. My daughter is a sophomore in high school, my wife is a pre-school teacher and I work at a college. If the dog were capable of learning even the most mundane new tricks, it would be the great quadruple. But for the rest of us, we’re navigating choppy and churning waters.

My school year is already over, so I’m pretty chill in comparison. More of an observer to this fascinating world of epic highs and looming lows as the others try to get free of their educational entanglements. The elaborate calendars listing test dates, pickup times, pre-school graduations and dozens of other school commitments. The motivational messages: “Don’t fail. Dad won’t support you your whole life.” The countdown clocks. The books, binders, worksheets and handouts strewn like a tornado has torn through.

And now for some REAL fun at the dinner table, it’s time for …

SAT Vocabulary Flash Cards!

Because you don’t know how to suck the marrow out of life until you sit down with the entire family for a nice, nutritious meal, and then proceed to show how little you grasp about the English language.

Now, that’s what you call living, kids.

It’s been all about gearing up for the PSAT the past couple of weeks in my house. The PSAT stands for “Preliminary Scholastic Aptitude Test.” It is a practice exam for high school sophomores like my daughter, and it has one simple objective: Scare the living daylights out of you so you go back and prepare for the real SAT. Because the SAT, as we all know, is the mother of all standardized tests – the T-Rex of its class. It is widely used for college admissions, and guaranteed to have fewer than two questions that are actually relevant in the real world. (Plus, you get to show your skill at filling in bubbles with a No. 2 pencil.)

Does anybody have any idea how any of this is supposed to go?

You know, back to school. Back to work. Back to the fall routine.

Back to the manic morning shuffle. The back-to-school puzzle. How all the pieces fit together, interlocking in a chaotic ballet of furious activity and utter panic.

When people scream, “Oh, the humanity!”

And someone else screams back, “There’s no time for ‘humanity!’ Forget your shoes and get in the car. Your school will be fine with bare feet.”

Amidst this madness, I often think to myself that this must have been what it was like when the meteor took out the dinosaurs. Only, that was calmer.