M Is For Mimosa. N Is For Nerve Pill.

We had a very busy morning today, because both of our boys had orientations at their schools today.

The boy had orientation at the high school, because he’s a freshman this year.  I know.  I can’t even process it myself, and I’m the one who had him cut out of my body with basically no anesthetic fifteen entire years ago.  I swear, this picture of him was just snapped yesterday…

IMG_1074… and now he refuses to wear his pirate get-up because he thinks he’s too old for it.

Whatever.

(And?  Cousin L up there, who is pictured sailing the high seas and ransacking unsuspecting ships at port for gold coins, is starting the 7th grade next week.  Good heavens.)

Apparently there’s a big belief circulating that incoming freshman might actually like to tour the building and walk the route to and from all their classes and learn where their locker is located and get the school calendar, where they know for sure when the first Teacher In-Service Day is, because NO SCHOOL THEN, before the first day of classes.  When school starts at the end of August, it’s always lovely to have a solid date to look forward to of PLEASE STAY HOME AND SLEEP IN ON THIS DAY.

The boy’s orientation started at 10:00 this morning, so at 9:15 I finally went into his room and encouraged him to GET UP NOW, BEFORE YOU MAKE ME INSANE, BECAUSE YOU NEED A SHOWER, AND EVERYTHING STARTS IN FORTY-FIVE MINUTES!  WHY DO YOU MAKE ME NEED MIMOSAS AND NERVE PILLS EVERY MORNING, SON, WITH ALL OF THE SLOWNESS?!

With prodding and me nixing the idea of him cooking eggs for his breakfast, BECAUSE WE ARE GOING TO BE LATE!  EAT A POP TART!  THEY’RE PACKED WITH ARTIFICIAL VITAMINS AND CAN GO WITH US IN THE CAR!, we made it to the high school at exactly 9:56.  He hopped out of the Suburban, all by himself, because last night he vetoed the idea of me picking up one of his friends and driving him, too, so that the two boys could walk into the high school TOGETHER.  The boy informed me that this is just how girls operate, and that boys are perfectly content walking inside of a new situation alone, and meeting a couple of buddies at a predetermined spot… or even NOT meeting anyone.  As it is, the boy was going to join up with two friends who were already at the school for tennis practice, and so I said a prayer for him as he walked inside that it would all just go well, because THERE GOES MY BABY TO HIGH SCHOOL ORIENTATION, ALONE.

I don’t even pretend to understand boys, because girls need to hold hands with one another everywhere we go.  Had it been MY high school orientation today, I would have been up four hours before it started to fix my hair just so, and I would have already scheduled fourteen girls to walk in together by 9:30, so we could all get seats in the auditorium, side by side.

Thing 2 DID get up more than four hours before his orientation started.  In fact, he pretty much got up before the Dunkin Donuts team went in to work this morning.

Hello, Faint Traces Of The Sun That Will Rise In An Hour And A Half.

By 8:00 this morning, Thing 2 was already wearing his brand new backpack and asking if it was time to see his school yet.  No buddy, it’s not.  Mama needs some more coffee yet, because (*yawn*) someone woke her up a little earlier than she wanted to get up.

And?  Seriously?  Preschool already?  Because these pictures were taken JUST YESTERDAY, too…

IMG_7961 IMG_8316Finally, after we’d dropped the boy off at the high school, Thing 2 and I drove straight from the high school to the preschool, because he had a MEET YOUR TEACHER and SEE YOUR CLASSROOM morning, too.  On the way, I told him that his teacher’s name was Miss Jill, to which he seemed quite indifferent, because JILL, AMY, MARCY, BETTY, GUADALUPE… IT DOESN’T MATTER, BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL GOING TO YANK ME AWAY FROM THE TONKA TRUCKS AND MAKE ME WRITE MY LETTERS AND NUMBERS.  I asked Thing 2, while we were driving, “Do you think that Miss Jill is going to be a nice teacher?”

He said, “Yeah, she’s probably nice.”

This was followed by a little pause, before Thing 2 added, “And if she’s not nice, I’ll just spit on her.”

Obviously the fruits of Hubs and I grooming this child in the ways of Christian behavior and loving one another and being a nice, NICE boy are not developing as we’d intended.

I immediately told Thing 2 that we NEVER spit on people, but he simply said, “Well, I spit on mean people.  If Miss Jill is nice, then I won’t spit on her.”

I’m fairly certain that mimosas and caffeine were invented because of KIDS and MORNINGS.

Here’s to hoping that they both have one great school year.

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