Grade Six Graduation happened this evening.
A small group of grade six mums, myself included (although, after the Kindergarten Incident of 2005 and the subsequent, similar Just Started School Situation of the following year, I swore I’d never, ever join a school committee again!) formed a teeensy committee and sorted it all.
They were nice. It almost made me want to join a committee again sometime in the near future. Should I seriously contemplate it, please stab me in the eye with a blunt spoon.
My role was to ensure Grumpy Pants sorted the cake, and to assist the grade six children with their speeches.
I listened to the rehearsal this morning. Not one said ‘fuck’. I was unsure if I should feel proud, or like I’d failed a little … *sigh*
Anyhoo, the time had come to leave for the Official Event. Monkey Boy, despite heavy protestation, dressed in the same gear he wore for his guitar concert last week; white, long sleeved shirt (unironed) and black dress pants. Sans tie this evening.
Oh, and his black and white canvas shoes, which he wears for parkour. Much more Monkey Boy than shiny black shoes and black tie. Not shiny.
By the time he stuffed his face with the pizza on offer and sat down amongst his peers in readiness for his speech, he had his shirt untucked and was looking remarkably himself. A small part of me was a little miffed. I mean, really, what’s wrong with neatly brushed (short) hair and immaculate clothing.
Mostly … it’s just not him.
I was, if I may be so bold, super impressed with the speeches that were given. I also wish I could take some credit, but the kids pretty much wrote them themselves.
I merely gave a bit of guidance, had a somewhat headache-inducing discussion about ‘segues’ and how they are nothing like ‘segways’, capitulated and used ‘segway’ to explain a ‘segue’ and shared some of my experiences (I did have a pair of undies pop out the leg of my jeans during one talk) that frightened the bejeesus out of them