We would both light up with smiles and laughter, walking together and catching up with other friends.
I would remember when I unpacked my satchel outside class that I had forgotten to do my homework again.
Sure enough, reckoning time comes, a blister from the teacher, sometimes detention, sometimes the cane. Oh well, that's school.
I had a love-hate relationship with school, probably like many of you.
I did not like the rules but I liked the friends and even some of the teachers.
I enjoyed most of my subjects but being naturally lazy, only ever did enough to get by with the least hassle possible.
I probably did not really hit my straps until my last year at college, the second year in the fifth form.
I often tell my children that I liked fifth form so much I stayed two years.
The reality was somewhat different and slightly embarrassing, even nowadays.
I failed School Certificate. Totally underestimated the whole deal.
Did not miss by much but, as happened in those distant days, back to fifth form, sharing the class with kids a year younger than me and several from my year as well as one poor guy on his third time around.
That made me grow up a bit. In those days jobs were easy to get but any decent job required School Certificate at least, preferably University Entrance. NCEA level 1 and NCEA level 2 in today's money.
Apart from that little upset I still strolled through life at school, enjoying a great social life, rugby and school clubs I was involved in.
I cleaned up School Certificate and left for a chance that turned into a great career.
When I think back I was a tad ungrateful as my parents made some sacrifices to send my siblings and me to school.
We were educated in what would be called today "a school of special character", in other words the Catholic school system in the days before state integration.
Parents had to pay. We were, for all intents and purposes, private schools but definitely the poor cousins of schools such as Christ's College or Wilford House.
However, we dressed up for the occasion. The rules were strict, dress standards especially.
Manners were required, ballroom dancing was taught in the senior forms of our school and the equivalent girls' school down the road.
All those steamy teenagers in our school gym on a winter's Friday evening learning to Cha Cha, waltz, foxtrot and Gay Gordon. Yes, young people, that was a dance in those days.
It was not surprising that many romances and even marriages resulted from that ballroom dancing class.
Girls you ignored in primary school all of a sudden became noticeable for some reason and even seem to like being noticed.
Looking back, school life was fairly cruisy and, overall, fun.
I had after-school jobs and worked in factories during my college holidays so I always had cash for the tuckshop.
Most kids back then seemed to have little jobs on the go.
There were always places that wanted a schoolkid to run messages or clean up. We learned the value of work and of having a boss and doing as we were told.
I worked hard on occasions at school but also did more than my share of wagging. School was carefree.
Full of friends, little responsibility, the chance to indulge in subjects and matters that were interesting.
When school and I parted ways I did not much miss it. I missed my mates who had all set out to find their places in the real world.
Being young, though, new friends pop up and new experiences make school memories fade into the background until later in life.
I have to say, though, and I am sure many will agree, there are several periods in life that could be termed "…the best days of your life".
Being a young father was brilliant. Watching my children attend college and do far better than their father was humbling but special too.
Becoming a grandparent is especially "best days" stuff.
We have even caught ourselves saying to our children that phrase in the first line of this article over the years, ruefully thinking yes, maybe they were.
