True confession time - I despise going to the awards ceremony. Oh, it was fun the first six times - when they were little and so cute and everybody's kids got some sort of award. But as the years wore on and more and more kids started falling by the wayside (mine included sometimes) and the cliquish mommies and their entourages appeared, I'd almost rather have a failed epidural again (long, long story there). Hubby can hardly ever come (I am expecting him at their high school graduation. I hear it's not during the daytime, aka work hours.) so I am there alone. I confess I am jealous of the entourages. Our families are too old, too sick and too far away and I miss getting to share my children with them.
In the back of my mind I had sorta blown off going this year. I didn't know of any awards mine were receiving, but last night at Scouts I found out that the eighth grader will have a "commencement" ceremony. Well, duh, of course he would. Didn't even think about it. So I asked my son, and he confirmed it...but he couldn't remember the details. C'mon people, a little help here. You're expecting hormonal teens to tell us all the appropriate details?? So I guess I'm going. In typical fashion, I will look for something to amuse me. Fortunately it doesn't take much and I do have a favorite story - here goes:
Of all the awards handed out, there is one award that crawls up my skin like a tick. The Perfect Attendance Award. Every year, I've watched kids get praised for not missing school and every year, I've thought, "Goodness, how can this happen?" My kids can catch something by being within 20 miles of you and your sneeze and somehow these kids can do it, no problem. Maybe your kid has had a great illness free year, but there's a good shot that one of those kids came to school sick and passed it through our house. So one year as I sat there thinking back on just how many days our sons were out during flu season, a child is called up on the stage for his award. He walked up being applauded and cheered on, and...threw up on the stage and on the principal's shoes. I think he might shoulda stayed home, umm, sick, that day? I still remember the faint ripple of giggles which I can only believe were the other Moms who had spent days taking care of their sick ones. We weren't laughing at the child, but at the circumstance. Can we maybe consider not applauding perfect attendance? I know we want kids to attend school...but really sick is sick. How 'bout it?
