Yesterday at school, I overheard teachers complaining that students seem to have checked out even though there are still two weeks of school left. I ducked out of the conversation quietly. I'm not a student, but this wannabe-cool-school-mom definitely has the end of the year fizzle fo' shizzle.
I've had it with third grade math story problems. My child and I fight over who has to read them aloud. Neither of us can do it without loudly lamenting: "Are they serious?" followed by a David Letterman toss of a pencil. Then we get to waste time looking for the pencil, looking for the sharpener, and of course sharpening the hell out of that pencil 'til it could easily blind the inventor of story problems. We've both had it with Jane. We don't care how much money Jane had when she walked into the store, how many combs Jane bought, or how much each comb costs. We think Jane should grow some dreadlocks and spend her money on candy.
However, according to Pinterest, moms experiencing complete apathy as the school year winds down, seem to be in the minority. Lunchables, Pop Tarts and Uncrustables have become staples during our home stretch, while thousands of perfect Pinterest moms continue to create crafty, healthy lunches for their kids. These Pinheads, who make the rest of us look like losers, must be on happy pills, and wound so tightly their entire diet consists of Activia.
I can't imagine the therapy bills of the overachieving mom who spends time baking two-tone bread for kids who likely trade it for a Moon Pie or my kid's marshmallow Pop Tart. Actually, I can proudly say my kid would never make a trade for bread with a heart in it. Now, if a Hostess product was in play, that would be another story, but alas, those happy days are over.
We all know that mom. She's the one who makes heart-shaped hard-boiled eggs and PB & J sushi just because. My kids would eat PB & J out of a Ziploc bag that's been trampled by the enitre class in the bathroom line. I have no need to trick them with fancy shapes. In fact, if I ever wanted to deter them from eating PB & J, I'd disguise it as sushi. And dammit, this same mom has the gall to set her carved turtle fruit salad bowl next to my KFC bucket at the Cub Scout pot luck. For Christ's sake, it's May. You win. Now take your turtle and chill.
I hate this mom. (I know you secretly do, too.) But I am consoled by the fact she has serious issues. I mean, I smile and compliment her creations, but I can admit it brings me joy that her system can only handle water and Activia while I can still consume a row of Thin Mints no problem.
On the last day of school, our family will celebrate messily with ice cream, water balloons and the boys may not bathe for a few days. She will host a yearbook-signing party and serve fancy snacks. And after she has exhausted her prescription of happy pills, yet unable to fight her Pinfection addiction, she will be admitted for treatment and make a really cool project to hang on her summer patio in occupational therapy.