Where has the summer gone? In the blink of an eye, August is history. Before you know it, lemonade will be replaced with hot cocoa and we will be pulling off our Bermuda shorts and pulling on our Long Johns. But before we say farewell to summer and rush to Wal-Mart for our Halloween costumes, there is one last fling: Labor Day.

Labor Day is the first Monday in September, set aside as a legal holiday in honor of labor. I find that interesting since the last thing on anyone’s mind on Labor Day is labor. Some people go the beach for one last summer hurrah. Others go camping. Still others spend one more day poolside.

Many families like my own gather together for a Labor Day picnic. If there’s one thing Americans like to do, it’s eat.

There is a particular strategy involved when placing one’s dish on the table at a bring-a-dish picnic. The female family members carry out this strategic placement naturally. Men will mess it up every time. A man will show up at a picnic carrying his wife’s dish and will stand before the food table like a moronic lawn sculpture with no idea as to where he should put the dish. Finally, an exasperated Great Aunt Edna wearing an embroidered apron will come to the poor guy’s rescue.

“Goodness, gracious. Give me that dish. What is it?”

“I’m not sure,” the male responds, more interested in the horseshoe pit down by the barn than the dish he is holding.

“It’s coleslaw,” she responds after lifting a corner of the Tupperware.

She immediately takes the dish and places it in an open spot on the table. The guy walks down to the horseshoe pit, oblivious as to why the coleslaw was placed near the potato salad instead of by the beans and taters.

A half hour later, after several attempts to pull the older men folk away from their game of horseshoes and the younger men folk away from the classic Corvette Cousin Carl is in the process of restoring, the family finally gathers in the backyard and the eldest member blesses the food.

As soon as all say “Amen,” the children rush to the food table, but stop in their tracks upon seeing so many vegetables set in one area.

“Yuck!”

“Now come on, sugar dumplin’,” Cousin Brenda says to ‘Lil Tyler Jr. “Don’t you want some of Gra’ma’s homemade pickles?”

“Yuck!”

“Don’t you talk like that or I’ll put you in time out.”

“I want pizza!”

Every child under 10 years of age starts chanting “Pizza, pizza, pizza.” Only America’s youth could pass up fried chicken and Aunt Beulah’s corn pudding for frozen pizza sparsely sprinkled with dehydrated tomatoes and peppers.

Meanwhile, Cousin Gary jumps into the front of the line. No matter who gets in the front of the line—whether it’s skinny Cousin Gary or my Cousin Lois’ professional wreslin’ husband Kirk—my Uncle Brent has to say his proverbial, “Oh, Lawd, look who’s at the front of the line. Won’t be a thing left for the rest of us. Ain’t that your third time through? Better reinforce that plate with ply board, buddy.” Everyone laughs. (Note:  Never do this when a female relative is first in line. For some reason it’s NEVER as funny. The last time this occurred at one of our family functions, the serving spoon from the pork and beans was picked up by that female relative and hurled in the direction of Uncle Brent. It happened once and only once.)

While on the subject of serving spoons, let me say that though we are a very close family, we make certain the dish and serving spoon we bring makes it back home with us. To assure ownership, many of my family members stick self-adhesive address labels on the bottom or on the lid of their dish. The serving spoon, knife or spatula always gets back into the hands of its rightful owner due to each family member Scotch taping his or her last name to the handle. Heaven help the family reunion where everyone has the same last name.

Unfortunately, not everyone remembers to bring a serving spoon, knife or spatula, which ultimately causes a dilemma. You’re going along the food table when suddenly you come across that bowl of three-bean salad that is lacking a serving spoon. What do you do? Obviously, as much as you love three-bean salad, you inevitably have to use either the serving spoon from Aunt Belinda’s Watergate salad or Aunt Sally’s pinto bean casserole. You make the choice, but whatever you do, don’t let either Aunt Belinda or Aunt Sally see you do it. These ladies are very particular about keeping their serving spoons with their dishes.

An important thing to remember when you’re attending a family function that involves food is to make sure you sample a little of each dish at the gathering. If you don’t, you can be certain that the relative who brought the dish from which you did not take a spoonful will notice.

“Hmm. Somethin’ wrong with my squash casserole?” you’ll hear a cook say after you pass over her dish. “I see you’ve got two helpings of Gladys’ potato salad and not a bit of my squash casserole. I repeat: What’s wrong with my dish? Hmm?”

From that point on, she will hold a grudge and remove you from her will. Whatever you do, pass on two helpings of anything and take a little from all.

About 45 minutes later, after seconds and thirds are taken from both the food and dessert table, everyone sits around with loosened belts and bulging girdles and comments on how good everything was.

An hour or two later, it’s time to go. Inevitably there will be a couple Pyrex and Tupperware dishes that will have a couple spoonfuls of macaroni salad or butter beans left in them.

“Okay, who’s going to take this last bit,” the owner of the dish announces. “I’m not taking it home. Someone needs to take it. I don’t want it to go to waste.”

These people are hell bent on getting rid of those couple of spoonfuls. They will find someone who will take it. They don’t understand that we have had second helpings of everything followed by chocolate cake, lemon squares and Magic Cookie Bars. The last thing I want is a helping of beans to top it off. But before you know it, they plop it on a paper plate and shove it at you and they leave victorious with an empty dish. Better get the Rolaids.

Yes, the summer must come to an end as it has for many, many years. Kids are back at school, the days will begin to shorten, and the heat index soon will be replaced by the wind chill factor. At least one thing will continue to stick around way after Labor Day. There will be plenty of opportunities for family get-togethers and bring-a-dish gatherings.

Just think, Thanksgiving and Christmas are just around the corner. So put your name on the bottom of your Pyrex dish and don’t forget your serving spoon. Amen.