It’s getting to where it feels like I need a whole separate calendar just to keep track of the end-of-school-year events and happenings and places we are required to be and things we need to do. (For example: The day after school ends, incoming middle schoolers for the following year who wish to be in the band have to go fork over a few wads of cash, sign paperwork, and pick their instruments. Should you move to the district later than the day after school ends, one assumes you are relegated to playing tuba. In the corner.)
Today was a very special day wherein Chickadee and a classmate were allowed to leave school and go out to lunch with a teacher and various associated parents because of an award they won, so we went over to school and got the kids and assembled at a local restaurant for this positively decadent treat. “This is way better than anything I would’ve gotten in the cafeteria today,” the other kid said, around a mouthful of cheeseburger.
The school paid for the kids to eat, and the teacher explained that they could have anything they wanted. The two fell to studying the menu for the very best beverage, and I suggested to Chickadee that she go for the IBC root beer, because that’s not only an excellent root beer, we hardly ever let her get soda. She was immediately taken by the idea, as was the other kid, and while the rest of us stuck to water, the two children and the teacher all had root beer.
Lunch was a very merry affair, topped off with giant slices of chocolate cake (for the kids), and I behaved very well, I think, right up until the teacher asked the waiter to take a picture of all of us so that it could be posted back at school.
I may have suggested the kids hold up their root beer bottles.
You know, the bottles that look like exactly like BEER bottles.
They lofted them with gusto and giggles. The picture was snapped.
I suspect it’s probably a good thing we won’t be at this school next year.