Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Wait! It's Summer? Now? Crap.

My kids didn't go to school today. I got them up, fed, brushed, backpacked and when I hustled them out the door, Lefty said, "Uh, mom. School ended yesterday."


It's Tuesday. Since when does school end in on a Tuesday? And, apparently, at 11:30am on a Tuesday. What use is that? So the teachers can look at those faces and say, "Good Morning, children! Now, grab your backpacks! School is over. Aren't your moms are going to be shocked to see you?" and then dismiss them for the day and THEN probably cackle like a horde of deranged crows.

I was at work when they came home yesterday, all complain-y because they had to walk. It's three blocks through our neighborhood, but you would have thought they were in Bataan the way they were carrying on. McLovin would have been less surprised to see Elvis standing at the door than he was when the children returned. Then he called me.

McLovin: The children are home.
Kate: Are they ill?
McLovin: They said that school is over.
Kate: Huh?
McLovin: They. said. that. school. is. over.
Kate: Over what?
McLovin: The rainbow, Kate. The school is over the rainbow.
Kate: I'm very confused.
McLovin: I'm hanging up now.
Kate: But wait! Are the children ill or something?

By the time I got home, I'd forgotten all about it, and actually asked the IHPs if they had finished their homework. At the time, what with the enthusiastic -- though slightly perplexed -- nodding, I actually thought they were being proactive. Now, in retrospect, I've discovered that those evil children are willing to lie to my face.

And now I'm faced with three freshly-sprung-from-the-rigors-of-school children, and no plan, and no camp until next Monday. And, they're all looking at me...and I've forgotten how to use The Force and make them think things they wouldn't normally think. Things like, "I think I'll go clean my room..." or "I want to fold laundry..." or "Mommy isn't crazy at all..." And I can tell that, right now, they're all thinking the same thing: Mommy has no plan. This is sanctioned mutiny. We need to misbehave, right now, while her brain is stuck.

Then the phone rang.

Liz: Did you know school was over?
Kate: Noooooo. I'm just now figuring that out.
Liz: Was there a note sent home?
Kate: No. I think they did this to screw with us.
Liz: So, what are you going to do?
Kate: Well, first I immediately panicked. Then, I -- nothing. I'm still immediately panicking.
Liz: Is it possible to immediately panic for more than a few seconds?
Kate: Seeing as I'm still doing it, yes. [whispering] What are we going to do with them?
Liz: Ummmm, I have the trampoline.
Kate: I have snacks and a coupon for Papa John's.
Liz: The pool?
Kate: GAH! No! Stop. They aren't supposed to be here. It's WEDNESDAY.
Liz: Right. Sorry. I was just immediately panicking. The trampoline has that net around it. And the yard has a fence.
Kate: I think that'll work. [to the IHPs] Children? Want to go play on the trampoline across the street?
Kate: [to self] I'm deaf. [to IHPs] Get your shoes. [to Liz] We're on our way.

All in all, it was a pretty good day. This summer thing might not be too bad. Lydia, after all, keeps her kids home all summer. They do fun things and go places and visit museums and zoos and parks and stuff, and she seems to think that it's awesome. And, I *essentially* make all those same things happen for my kids. The IHPs do fun things and go places and visit museums and zoos and parks and stuff and it's awesome and that's when I think to myself that Summer Camp is a wonderful thing.

Because there's only so many days I can have them bounce on a trampoline.

Also, immediately panicking is a lot harder than it sounds. I should know. I'll be doing it until Monday when camp starts.

(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2011

Popular Posts