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Yesterday, at exactly 11:35 a.m., a unified shout erupted from every school in the district. At least one teacher collapsed in a sobbing, heaving pile of joy. School’s Out For The Summer.

No more pencils
No more books
No more teacher’s dirty looks! – Alice Cooper

Today, elated teachers are roaming empty halls that smell like gym socks, dazed and confused. And who could blame them? They’ve earned their rest. Parents are roaming around a home that houses those smelly gym socks, wondering how to fill 9 (count them again)…9 weeks of summer. Little Guy is starting his first full day of summer going to work with me. Good times!

I love the end of school. No more lunches to pack (or mouldy lunches to unpack). No more running back to the school because “I forgot my [insert item] in my locker or [insert item] at home. No more trying to decipher project instructions, expectations and deadlines based on the mutterings of my child, who is also clearly dazed and confused…

…like the lunch box project. Design a lunch box with 3 compartments: one for hot, one for cold, one for liquids. It must be able to hold a minimum of 500ml and maximum volume of 12,500 ml, and have an interesting shape. Research the materials used for a bunch of science-related jargon. No Styrofoam. Must transport as one unit.

Little did we realize that a few weeks after completing this, there was another portion of the project. Build a prototype to scale and test it. Most of the materials he used were great resources for what he was doing, but were not things you can simply pick up at Home Depot? He had to redesign it, and fast! Do you have any idea how hard it is to find excessively large pieces of blank cardboard and how many man-hours it takes to build, paint, insulate and line three 3D pentagons?

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It wasn’t rocket science…but it kinda felt like it!

…or like the self-portrait mosaic. Talk about a bomb going off in the living! It was less than half complete and due in the morning. And he needed to cut tiny bits from glossy magazines. I had to dig through piles of crap to find one. It was a fitness magazine I bought when he was 2 and I still believed I would wear my red jeans again. I never read it. The red jeans are only a bittersweet memory. By the time he was done, my living room looked like this…

…and no one had the desire to touch it before bed!

Then there was the time he accidentally deleted 3 weeks worth of research and didn’t realize he was at fault…4 days before the massive project was due….

Or the hours researching earthquakes in Japan and New Zealand. Or the hours practicing music from Annie.

Little Guy rounded out the year by disappearing on the second last day. After nearly an hour and a half of frantically driving between the school and home, leaving messages on the machine, praying fervently, talking to teachers and finally calling the police, he saunters in. He inexplicably went home with some kid to record their dance homework.

What kind of teacher assigns homework on the second last day of school?

While I hate to see the years flying by, yesterday I was cheering from the car. School’s out for the summer! Good riddance, Grade 7. Let the good times roll!

Happy weekend!