Signed. Sealed. Delivered.
This morning, Jane and I wrestled her Academic Fair Project into the school: a large tri-fold presentation board festooned with all things Delaware, including a timeline, an economic collage, a biography of Annie Jump Cannon, a map, and a letter from the governor with autographed photo, etc.; a huge foam-board-backed image of the Rock Monster from the Dover international Speedway to top the tri-fold; and a box containing a labeled map of the Speedway, a foam board beach house, a diorama of the Battle of Cooch’s Bridge, a couple of matchbox cars, and a stack of hinged explanations for each and every piece. Plus a roll of clear packing tape suitable for attaching huge foam-board-backed Rock Monster images to things.
All complete and turned in on time.
Dear Lord, it took a village.
Her aunt helped with the images. Her mother helped with the writing. Her father supplied foam board 3D effects. My MIL provided cookies and cardboard boxes.
And we all encouraged, reined-in, applauded, and nagged, either in tag teams or in tandem.
The actual Lower School Academic Fair is Thursday evening (Happy Valentine’s Day, school board!) and Jane still has to practice her presentation in front of the class this week and decide if she’ll be passing out complementary and culturally-significant cups of sarsaparilla soda, but those are not the village’s problems.
It’s over. It’s done. It’s Miller Time.
Until next year, when Sunny is a first grader and we’ll have two simultaneous projects to complete.
We’re gonna need a bigger village . . .
Rivermont? Max had Maine, which fortunately I had just visited due to my grandmother’s death.
Yep. I’m begging Jane to choose New Zealand, Japan, or Germany next year, so we’ll have a head start . . .
Congratulations! What you need next year is for two grandparents to be there to give unwanted advice, meddle, and in general get in the way. We volunteer.
Excellent! When are you moving up here?
“Her mother helped with the writing.”
Love it.
Her mother went to bed afterward with an ice pack, muttering, “Three sentence paragraphs, Three sentence paragraphs, Three sentence paragraphs . . . ”
I’d like to say I miss those days, but I’m giving up lying for Lent.
I’m giving up deprivation. 😉
I’m impressed. I’ve only known Delaware as the land of phony corporate headquarters and no sales tax. (Those two things are gonna be in the presentation, right?)
I think we’re gonna have to wait until seventh grade for corporate loopholes . . .
Does Watson rent out? I’ve been thinking how fantastic it would be to have that extra grown-up (I’m using that loosely knowing you and a bit of Watson and including myself) person in the house, to herd children, do the crafts you don’t want to do, watch Spongebob and Dora.
There could be a whole market here for this. Rent-an-extra-grown-up: includes birthday parties, school projects, all recitals/school plays. Extra charges may apply.
No. She’s ours.
And she has been wonderful—she tutors, too—but I’m pretty sure she draws the line at children’s TV.
So we should bring back . . . not au pairs . . . but governesses? I agree!
Yeah before you get too far with this modern-day mommy fantasy, it should be noted that the last three times I’ve heard “children BEHAVE” at the dinner table, it was directed at me.
Janie and Sunny are FAR more mature than their aunt.
True. But you’re more likely to listen. On average.
I might listen, but really, it’s been 40-odd years. Apparently I never LEARN.
Sure you do. What’s the State Macroinvertebrate of Delaware?