Through the years, it seems as if every piece of spring correspondence from school has begun with the ultimate cliché:
It's hard to believe that the school year is almost over. How the children have blossomed.
It's hard to believe that another year has gone by. It's been such a pleasure to watch your little ones learn and grow.
Another year…and another…And now no more. Hard to believe.
As we launch into the circumstance of graduation (our school is not so big on pomp), a dad of an only child remarked that he was determined not to let the sappiness get to him. Instead, he said, embrace what is to come. This is too important a life passage to give in to the cheap emotions and triteness of all the Last Events: The last Soccer Awards Ceremony. The last Senior Show. The last Sports Thank You Dinner. The last Parent Association Thank You Breakfast (with the Last Swag: the last Thank You mug). The last Pre-Prom Photo Op.
And last Friday, the Last Day of School. As the bell rang at 3pm, the seniors formed a mosh pit on an outdoor stage, grooved to Ain't No Mountain High Enough, and lit up cigars. A curious tradition at a P.C. school committed to the environment, but epic nonetheless.
Just the way the kids are telling each other in yearbook messages that they wish they had gotten to know each other better, the parent body has suddenly become inseparable. We spent Saturday night drinking margueritas and toasting the past at an End of an Era party. We posted photos of hugging, dancing and chatting with people we've seen around since kindergarten but had never spoken to.
Still to come is Senior Parent Night. Something to look forward to: That's when we find out how to become lifelong donors.
And today, we received an interesting proposal in the mail:
It's hard to believe that your children's elementary, middle school and high school years have vanished in a heartbeat. Nothing left but archaic 8mm video footage of Halloween parades, rainy field trips, over-the-top birthday parties, squeaky recitals, dimly-lit plays, windy tournaments, controversial laser tag parties and snowy backpacking trips when everyone returned with H1N1. And all that artwork you meant to frame, now covered with silverfish in a box in the garage.
We bet you're feeling old, ridiculously old. What will you do with your time now that you won't be volunteering for your kid's school? There are no Room Moms at college. Horrifying to imagine that you'll never be a Parent Association Treasurer or a Little League Dad or International Day Pot Luck Chairperson again.
So, we have a proposal for you: Adopt! No need to pine over being stuck with your grumpy spouse when you can be playing Pictionary Jr. and roasting kale with an adorable six-year from Somalia, Bolivia or Guam!
Just think – a chance for a redo, an opportunity not make the same mistakes again, this time with a child who will cheerfully walk the dog, put on shoes every morning and respect the laws about not driving with friends who are under 17.
And best of all, at birth we can guarantee a place for your sweet new baby in one of the top three colleges of your choice (Screw her – this time you'll choose!) We'll even throw in a gratuitous online PPPSAT course, appropriate for seven and eight year olds.
So instead of sitting around wallowing in self pity, do something good for the world…and for your high school graduate, who needs to start thinking about his or her law school essay.
The CB Take II Plan
So….the College Board, feeling regretful about recent events at Packer School, must have purchased our name. Who would have known that their latest mega screw up could end up not only curing the doldrums of empty nesting, but also benefit the orphans of Somalia?
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