The summer began with so much promise. We could not have had a better setup at our old house in Pensacola, Fla. Right next door to us was a boy whose age fell exactly between Ford's and Owen's. The three of them spent hours running back and forth between houses, usually with toy wooden muskets, baseball bats, and other "weapons" in their hands. They turned our driveway into racetracks, and a replica of the Millennium Falcon ship from “Star Wars.” They played football in the grass until it was nighttime. And when the weather got too hot or the boys were bored, they would come inside the house and entertain their youngest brothers (also the same age, but both too small for the Revolutionary War and “Star Wars”) by making them criminals who needed to be followed and spied on.

If you've ever lived next door to a child the same age as yours — or, better still, if you've ever not lived near any other kids at all — you know what a beautiful setup I had in Pensacola. Although it may seem counterintuitive, having another child who is not your own nearby actually decreases the chaos in your home and gives you more time to yourself. Sounds crazy, I know. So if you haven't experienced this yet, you'll just have to trust me. When searching for a home, your first priority should always be to find a house within close proximity to any children the same gender and age as yours sitting in their front yard doing something like, oh, I don't know, pretending to hunt you down like a rogue dinosaur. That is, if your kid is into that kind of thing, of course. Believe me, aside from the occasional baseball to the side of your car and buried plastic flamingo parts in your yard, having a friend next door for your children to play with is a beautiful thing.

I know all this because since we moved (just one week into the summer — thanks, Uncle Sam!) we are without my sons' best bud across the driveway, and I'm paying for it. You can only hear "Mom, we're bored" so many times before you want to poke your eye out with Darth Vadar's tiny light saber.

Ah, but summer is quickly coming to an end. There is hope. Soon the boys will be back at school. And besides all of the above, I couldn't be happier because:

• Owen, 5, who is just beginning to take an interest in learning how to read and will begin kindergarten Sept. 2, figured out how to spell R2-D2 before learning how to recognize his own last name.
• Owen recently demonstrated his emerging math abilities when he told me, "If a toy storm trooper comes in the package with two helmets but we lose one, then the storm trooper only has one helmet left."
• No one knows where the lost storm trooper helmet is, but I suspect it has gone to the same place as the lost swim goggles, the dice to Parcheesi, and the baby's half-eaten granola bar.
• Ford, 7, still can't tie his shoes.
• If the boys get out of their pajamas by 10:00 a.m., I think something is wrong.
• You can only see so many juvenile movies at the theater.
• Juvenile movies at the theater are about one and a half hours longer than they should be.
• After I've spent two hours and $50 at a theater to entertain my children with a movie, I kind of feel like I want those minutes of my life back.
• Ford has taken up a new interest in making sounds like Chubacca.
• Ford is getting very good at making sounds like Chubacca.
• Visiting amusement parks and local fairs always sounds like a good idea. Until you get there.
• Watching a silly magic show at an amusement park makes seeing a kid movie at the theater seem like a great idea.
• A long time ago, back in May, I remember having a life of my own. Even if it was only for six hours a day.
• A long time ago, I was able to finish my column, do the laundry, and eat lunch without having to stop to put C-3PO's leg back on, get the toy wooden musket away from the baby, and make the boys get out of their pajamas.
• Our baby Lindell's first words this summer were "Spongebob" and "uh-oh."
• I am beginning to think that things like Spongebob, kid movies, magic shows, amusement parks, and C-3PO are kind of funny.

And the number one reason I'm glad summer is about to end: Yesterday, while I was alone in the car, I caught myself practicing my own Chubacca noises.