Yesterday we sent the 5th Grader off on her first overnight class trip. She’s at a camp where they’re learning about archery and canoeing, doing ropes courses, and holding snakes. When I saw “hands-on reptile exploration” on the information sheet I knew then and there that I had made the right call in not signing up to be a chaperone. This was further confirmed when I heard she should pack clothes that could be thrown away. I don’t wear fancy clothes, but generally I try not to participate in activities that call for disposable clothing. I remember being so excited about my own 5th Grade trip to the mountains many moons ago. Trips of this sort are a rite of passage. I’m just praying my child is eating, sleeping, and wearing the coat she tried to convince me she wouldn’t need.
While the oldest is on her trip, the 3rd Grader has been busy running track and doing math homework. After yesterday’s meet, we grabbed a quick dinner and came home to start working on elementary geometry. I’m learning there are some things I can no longer do after 9 PM: read, write, engage in deep conversation, or perform 3rd grade math. I have no idea what the difference between a polygon and a trapezoid is at that hour of the day. All I know is that my bed is a rectangle and I want to be in it.
I’m more a fan of the type of homework where my job is to listen to the Kindergartener read a book out loud. It’s unbelievable how much progress kids make their first year of school. Just a few months ago she was struggling to recognize the word “the,” and now she is reading short stories. Teachers are miracle workers. They also have to be master decoders because they see papers like this one that came home yesterday. This is a list of things one might pack for a sleepover:
You would need your stuf anmal, your klos, and a tof brush for your teef, of course.
This paper about spring break is my favorite, though. It was tougher to decipher:
Here’s a hint. This is a story about Mount Vernon. And, sometimes George is spelled “Joj.” And sometimes of is spelled “uv.” That’s how we pronounce it in the South anyway.
I’ll close with one other fun game. Do you know what this is?
Well, it used to be a sweet little wind-up chick until someone put her nose in an unattended Easter basket and selected it as her bedtime prey. You may recognize the suspect below. When questioned about the mangling of the chick she assumed this innocent pose.
But upon further interrogation the perpetrator turned her head away in shame.
One of the highlights of my week is hearing the Spouse say in his loudest and gruffest voice:
“WE DO NOT EAT CHICKS, ROSIE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND??”
I feel certain she does not understand. And, therefore, we’ll never have real chicks or bunnies or gerbils around here. It’s all fun and games when the plastic chick is eaten, but I wouldn’t feel quite the same about a live animal.
Speaking of live animals… it’s always a treat to see what she will do when we spot a new dog in the neighborhood. Typically she gets up on two legs showing them who’s boss. And, then for added drama, she hops off like a rabbit. I’m sure it’s all very intimidating.
I’m glad our dog is so composed and normal.
Let’s just hope the 5th Grader gets back home before anything else from her Easter basket gets stolen and/or eaten.
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