The last day of school. The question I leave unanswered every year.

Nine months of school. Every year I try to do something to mark the end of it — to create a small ceremony that says: we notice what just happened. Nine months is a long time. A child changes substantially in nine months. The year that just ended is not the same year that started in September.

I usually fail to do the ceremony properly. Life is happening. There's dinner to make. The last day of school falls in the middle of an ordinary week and by the time I've thought of something to do, the moment has passed and they're already in summer mode.

So instead I ask a question. I ask it at dinner on the last day, or the day after. I ask: what is one thing that happened this year that you didn't expect? Not the best thing. Not the proudest moment. Something unexpected.

The answers are always surprising. Last year my son said: I didn't expect to like the teacher I ended up liking the most. My daughter said: I didn't expect the thing with the apple tree in the science project to actually work. The apple tree project: I asked her to tell me more about it in September. She did. I still didn't fully understand it. But I asked, and she told me, and that was new.