Growing up, I thought everyone in the world had the summer off. My mom, dad, aunt, and all of their friends were teachers, and we spent every day of the summer either by the pool, at the beach, or in the mountains. My aunt had a cross stitch in her kitchen that said “Three Reasons I Love Teaching: June, July, and August!” Naturally, I had to become a teacher because working in the summer heat seems practically sacrilegious. Of course, I teach on a modified year-round schedule, so my “three reasons” cross stitch would say “June/July,

September/October, and March/April!” A bit more complicated, but just as enjoyable. After recently enjoying our first two weeks of summer by the pool, we took our three girls to the mountains and made our usual visit to Mast General Store in Valle Crucis (a place everyone must visit). As I perused the buckets of throw-back candy such as wax bottles and pop rocks, I spotted something that gave me the strongest feeling of nostalgia I have experienced in years; a Slap Stix. I had completely forgotten about this rectangular caramel sucker with its swirls of white, pink, and yellow taffy. It was my favorite treat from the “Snack Shack” at my neighborhood swimming pool; the sacred place where I enjoyed the care-free days of a childhood summer.

The sight of the Slap Stix stopped me in my tracks, and I was suddenly transported back to Pinebrook Swim Club in 1978. I could hear the dreaded whistle followed by the lifeguard shouting “BREAK!!” Oh, that despicable 10-minute required rest that pools use as a form of torture. Kids are forced to watch the “old people” wade in the water for what seems like an hour; what a complete waste of chlorine and diving boards. But the punishing respite was made bearable as I sat on my gray and blue dolphin towel on the scorching cement and savored my Slap Stix. I watched the colorful caramel slowly stretch and mold to whatever shape I chose. It didn’t just taste good, it was an art project.

I bought a Slap Stix at the Mast General Store for myself to enjoy this summer at the pool with my children, but I can’t bring myself to open it yet because I hate to see it go. I have vowed to buy four the next time I’m in the mountains so I can share the experience with my girls. We will sit on a wet towel, on the hard cement (or maybe in a lounge chair this time), in the 98-degree heat, and enjoy the freedom of a lazy summer day and the sweetness of a childhood memory.