Five, Four, Three, Two...

Counting down the days is hard to do with your fingers crossed but I am doing it. Massey has six days left, Zach has three. It's the three that worry me but I think his teacher's want him to graduate more than I do so perhaps he'll make it after all.

The picture to the left is truly "old school." It is one of my brother's class photos from the early sixties. Notice the trouble kid who's desk is pulled up by the chalk board. Dang...don't you know his mom was proud as pop when he brought home THIS class picture? Was he SO bad that they wouldn't even let him join the rest of the class for a picture?

Then we move into the swinging seventies with a "Groovy" class picture from the same school but with my class. I still remember that sweater dress...one of the two I owned that my Mom didn't make. I think the white knee socks and chucka boots are a nice touch. They scream "You won't have a boyfriend til you are twenty."

Life was so simple back then...so was school. Once a week you had square dancing class, I still know how to do the Virginia Reel and know all the words to "Oh Johnny Oh Johnny Oh." Our Spanish lessons were watching Senora Del Ray on PBS on a huge black and white TV they rolled into the class room. The biggest scandal I can recall about any of the girls was the time Charlene came to school with her hair dyed jet black instead of her snow white blond. I think we all thought "Her mother must be lady of the night" because I can guarantee none of OUR Mother's would have ever given the go ahead for something like THAT!

From the time of Kindergarten I walked home from school...with no cell phone, beeper or tracking device and I lived to tell the story. We went trick or treating with our friends and our parents stayed home and gave out candy while we went to every house in a four block radius wearing our totally flammable costumes with the cheap plastic mask that cut into your eyes and made you drool after trying to breathe through that tiny slit in the mouth. Those were the days!

We didn't feel the need to count down the days at the end of the school year. Heck, we didn't start until the Monday after Labor Day and got out in May. When I was a kid there was no "School List." They gave you every thing you needed the first day, notebooks, tablets and pencils. All you had to do was show up!

By the time I have grand kids they will be expected to show up for pre-K with a lap top and iPhone.

I went to the last banquet tonight. Concerts are all done, awards given out and Luke warm food scarfed down off a paper plate...CHECK!

Thank goodness I only have one child that is crazy about extra curricular activities. TJ started out strong in ninth grade playing basket ball, football and running track. By the time he turned fifteen he started working and discovered pay day was better than a win on the field and made him a lot happier. (Smart boy)

All kidding aside it has been fun being involved with Massey and her flurry of activities...it keeps you young and in touch and teaches you what the words "Epic...Beast and Chill" mean in 2011.

Got a call from Zach's teacher today.

I don't know if caller ID is a good thing or a bad thing at our house, tough call. The principal called him out at lunch for his pants being too low. The "Principal"...loosely translated by Zach "The Anarchist that oppresses and tries to control and take over the minds of teens, sucking the life out of them and demanding the ridiculous...RESPECT."

His teacher said the principal demanded they write Zach up or he would suspend him...in which case he wouldn't graduate. The teacher almost seemed to be whispering, I think she was hiding in a custodian's closet. She said "Mrs. Cotton, I know pants seem to be trivial at this point but could you ask Zach to pull them up a bit...we just want these kids to graduate."

Dang...I've never bought a TEACHER a gift for graduation but this lady may deserve one. She refrained from saying "We're trying to get Zach outta here for Pete's sake, can he JUST pull his pants up for three more days?'

I let Tim field this one. He had made the mistake of getting up to go to the bathroom while he was sleeping for work tonight and I handed him the phone and went upstairs.

I could tell she put Zach on the phone...Tim's voice rose about 2000 decibels and I could hear every word as if I was in the custodian's closet with the teacher. Tim came back upstairs to hang up the phone shaking his head and said "Zach's got an answer for everything...wonder where he gets THAT?"

If I consider my personality type 'Fiery' let's just say Zach's initials are TNT... Guess he really IS an overachiever!

The boy is going down fighting. Tim reamed him a new one...easy to do since his pants hang down to his upper thighs. I told Tim the pants he has are 28's. I don't think they make 27's for men. He's a skinny kid that eats like a horse and has a mouth like a screaming Hyena when cornered.

I have a belt ready for him to wear tomorrow. I'd like to use it on him first.

Massey has decided not to do Guard for a season. I think she feels guilty about how much it costs. In her defense she needs to get much needed therapy for her knee and we're still waiting for Tim's insurance to kick in. Heck, we're waiting for all the promises they gave Tim when they hired him to kick in.

He had two interviews with a new company this week and they are going to let him know tomorrow. It's a great job with many opportunities to advance. We may have to relocate but at this point I say "Let's go." Could be Ohio or Illinois or Florida. My vote's for Florida. If it's Ohio, he can come home Thanksgiving and Christmas. If it's Chicago I'll go. If it's Orlando I'll beat him there.

If it's Orlando my brother will have to be put on suicide watch...he is transferring back to the Orlando area. He is single and never had kids. That's a good thing because he has been helping to raise mine for years. He and my sister have been the forces that have seen us through. My sister still likes me, I make her laugh...she thinks I should be a stand up comic.

My brother is three times funnier than me and four times tireder of taking care of a fifty one year old sister...but he does it anyway. He may not like me...but he loves me.

In nine days Zach will graduate. I've heard rumours that out of the 650 graduates they are going to call his name first and escort him out...that boy knows how to make Mama proud!

When he was in third grade he came home one day and announced he wanted to go to Clown College. When I laughed he said "There are some really good ones."

He already dresses like a clown...

Till next time, counting down the days...COTTON