Commentary by Danielle Wilson
Summer could not have come soon enough here at Chez Wilson. The last week of May in particular was a striking testament to how the stress of the school year can wreak havoc.
Yesterday, for example, I showed up at work with a hole in my pants, directly over my right buttock. Luckily I had a sweater, and I was able to make it through without incident, though I felt stupid walking around in a warm building with extra clothing tied around my waste. What am I? A middle-schooler surprised by Aunt Flo?
At lunch, I received a text from my husband telling me that the high school had just called: our oldest was in the midst of missing a final. Remember those college nightmares where your alarm fails and you wake up two hours in to your psychology exam? It was happening! He made it with time to complete the test and claims he just got his schedule mixed up, but I know part of the problem is the craziness at our house.
To wit, my youngest threw a veritable conniption fit last night because we couldn’t find her math book. After searching high and low, all I could come up with was a PRE bible from 2007. “I feel like I’ve seen it recently … but where?” I’m sure it’s under a bed or in a closet, but it could also be fetching a fine price at Goodwill. The real issue is that we have yet to recover from our kitchen remodel when, in preparation for demo, I stashed or donated cabinet contents, small appliances and all manner of chachkies. A missing pre-algebra textbook is the least of my problems. We still have unemptied coolers from Derby!
And then there’s last week’s “Andrew Incident” when we left said kid at French tutoring with a dead phone. For two hours! When I eventually remembered, we found Andrew roadside, about a half-mile into a three-mile walk home. Comment dit-on en français “Parents of the year?”
So thank you Jesus for summer vacation. The Wilsons sure need it. Peace out.