Hey! I'm not here. I'm at graduation. But because I'm psychic, I can tell you what happened today, even though I am writing this yesterday.
I got to school and readied my lesson plan, or as we insiders refer to it, popped my last-day movie into the DVD player. I threw away some odds and ends of lab safety worksheets. I unplugged and defrosted my mini-fridge. Ate left-over pizza from home for my lunch. Dismissed the students. Walked through the graduation ceremony. Watched the slide show of senior pictures and baby pics. Cried for the end of the #1 son's high school career. And because his baby picture was so cute.
I packed up my laptop, mouse, mousepad, and number pad, all after marking them with masking tape so we have no repeat of the unfortunate incident where the tenth grade teacher did not understand why a background of a barrel-racing horse came up every time she turned on her computer, until second semester, when the ninth grade teacher was wondering out loud where her barrel-racer background went. I lined up to check out, with my form that I had cleverly had signed by various entities through the week, to avoid stalking them for their elusive signatures today. I raced home to relax for about 1.5 hours. I raced back to school to get a parking space.
I met my mom, Farmer H, and The Pony before The Pony went to join his band cohorts, and Farmer H and Mom went to stake out prime seats behind the graduates. I donned my long black robe with the Master's sleeves, and the wrong colored cape that the company sent me instead of my real college colors. I stuffed tissues and cough drops in the sleeves for emergencies. I lined up and sweltered. I marched in to the processional, which we all call Pomp and Circumstance. I heaved a sigh of relief and sat down to watch the festivities. My heart grew two sizes when #1 walked up to receive his diploma. I watched all the graduates stride proudly across the polished gym floor, wondering what the future held for them. I rushed up the steps to the tunes of the recessional before the graduates could notice and spray me with silly string.
I ripped off my robe and cape, tossed them to the faithful secretary, and went to my room to wait for The Pony to finish up with the band. Farmer H and #1 went off to a Project Graduation shindig. I came home and called my mom to make sure she got home safely.
And that's the way it was. Graduation 2013.
2 comments:
Did a twisted Walter Kronkite attend the ceremony?
What a proud moment. In a few months, The Pony will have all of the pastures to himself...What a life the young lead.
Sioux,
No. No celebrities. Though at my own high school graduation, newscaster Max Roby spoke, eliminating the need for a valedictory speech from the future Mrs. Hillbilly Mom.
The Pony, though persecuted and berated unmercifully by the #1 son, will miss his big brother tremendously.
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