Hey, guess what! Remember about a year ago when Monkey won an award, and we went to a very long ceremony, and I realized that I have an irrevocable urge to shout “YOU DAMN KIDS GET OFFA MY LAWN” at elementary schoolers who have bigger boobs than I do? Wasn’t that awesome?
We liked it all SO much, we went back again and did the whole shebang a second time when Chickadee won. It was pretty much the same.
This year I’ve sort of been living in dread of such things, because it turns out that as proud as I am when the kids do good things, I still don’t particularly like sitting through long ceremonies punctuated by hundreds of children who really are not all that interested in being quiet for an entire hour.
So I was DELIGHTED this year when Monkey brought home the notice that he’d won, but also told us that now the deal is that the ceremony just happens for the kids, and parents are invited to come in for lunch, afterward.
I think this is brilliant. I get to ooh and aah over the certificate at home, and I get to sit and eat and chat with my kid (instead of watching him from 50 yards away) as a reward. That seems much more rewarding, to me! For both of us!
In fact, I was feeling so giddy and magnanimous about the whole thing, today, that I offered to go pick up the fast food of Monkey’s choice and bring THAT for our lunch together. His eyes grew big. After pondering the possibilities (and my clarifying that no, a dozen donuts is not LUNCH), he settled on Arby’s, and I told him I’d see him at lunch time.
Otto and I met Monkey in the lunch room with our curly fries in hand, and we settled in to enjoy the noontime meal together. Of course, I realized immediately that I’d miscalculated. I’d offered fast food as a special treat, of course, not realizing that the school was giving CUPCAKES and ICE CREAM to the award recipients.
Basically, I became party to serving my child an entire meal of zero nutritional value. But at least it had 10,000 calories! (Hey, maybe we should do that more often, so that I won’t have to keep tightening the buttonhole elastic on Slimboy’s pants, there.)
Monkey reveled in our undivided attention, or maybe just in all that sugar, and lunch was a very merry experience indeed. I kept saying that he couldn’t possibly eat that sandwich AND those french fries AND his ice cream AND a cupcake, but he assured me that it was fine, fine, he’d manage.
He saved the cupcake for last. Of course. Probably so that he could do this. (I’ve removed this photo from general viewing and put in a link, because it’s kinda gross and you might not want to click if you’re of delicate constitution or whatever.)
… and listen to me gag. *ack*
He ate every last crumb and then took a nice long drink to clear the gunk from his braces, and then patted his stomach.
And then he belched so loudly the windows shook.
Yep, there’s nothing quite like it when your kid is honored for
being a pig being a great kid.