The Dog Ate My Homework

       My daughter informed me that her 8^th grade graduation will be on June 10^th, and that she’ll need a new (aka: expensive) party dress for the ceremony and party. Graduation from 8^th grade? Don’t you just move on to 9th and be done with it? Isn’t that celebration enough? What do they call the grad party.....Practice Prom?  Promito? And why can’t she just put some outfit together from the clothes collecting dust in her walk-in closet? I’m told it’s a big deal and that I don’t ‘get it’ because I’m from the old days when nobody celebrated children – back when they were supposed to be seen and not heard. Well….what’s wrong with that? Now they just scream and perturb.

       Due to the fact that there are no stores in this town to shop for a party dress (unless my daughter wants to dress like Cattle Kate or someone from Little House on the Prairie), hours were spent perusing teeny bopper internet stores for something partyish but not fancy, fashionable but not trendy, and grown-up but ‘not anything that a mom would wear’. Bomb. Looks like we’ll be driving 2 hours west to the nearest shopping town I liken to Hell, where an extra large bright yellow billboard greets people with the words “WARNING TO TOURISTS: DO NOT LAUGH AT THE NATIVES”. Frankly, I think my little sweetie would look darling dressed as Laura Ingles…….

       On another note, the dog ate my son’s science project. The experiment involved the very exciting process of watching mold grow on bread, which is about as exhilarating as watching grass grow….or church…but which is apparently momentous enough for a potential ‘A’ in 7^th grade science class. The project was merely 2 weeks established with little or no mold yet visible when the pup decided to pull it off the counter and suck it down in one gulp.  40 minutes and a lot of screaming later, I was able to calm my son enough to tell him not to worry and that I’d just help him simulate the results. More screaming. Evidently ‘simulating’ is equivalent to ‘lying’ and ‘cheating’ which I’ve always taught my children to avoid. Damn. A lengthy and intricate conversation regarding the art of deception then ensued. I took on the role of ‘impatient and horrible mother’ and, telling my son it was time to finally grow up, I proceeded to crush my 12 year olds innocence with a monologue regarding careful manipulation, creative license, clever illusion and strategic monkey-business. Examples of government, law enforcement, big corporation and our lawn guy followed, as I attempted to convince the dear that fudging results for a little piece of bread is nothing compared to the guile perpetrating our society. I concluded my speech with the popular phrase uttered by all self-absorbed, arrogant and thoughtless individuals: “Besides, who would know?” I swear, there was pity in my boy’s eyes when he calmly and confidently said, “I would know, Mom.” I can't do that. I’ll start over.” Gee whiz. Such integrity. Not sure where he gets it from…..

       The dog is fine….now. A trip to the vet became necessary when the excessive sneezing, wheezing and choking sounds forced us to turn up the volume during an episode of American Idol, and demanded we wear earplugs to sleep. Seemingly, bread mold doesn’t sit well with fido and he might even possess an allergy to…..penicillin? Personally, I don’t think the vet had a clue as to the cause for the dog’s suffering, but nevertheless sent us on our merry way with 2 different forms of medication, a $467 bill, and an appointment for a $1300 canine rhinoscopy, if things don’t clear up within the next 10 days.

       Good times.
       And honestly, I wouldn't change it for the world.