So, if you have four children, each going to public school for thirteen years a piece, that’s a grand total of… *does math in head* FIFTY-TWO back to school nights that you and your spouse are bound to attend, plus or minus a few for the time one of the kids attended a block schedule school which meant he had two a year, and that quick flurry of years during which there were three kids in school and somebody had to be missed because there were only two adults.
Anyway–let’s go with fifty-two, and don’t count Open House because then things get REALLY confused, and say that, after tonight for Squish, with ZoomBoy’s next week, we only have six to go.
That’s sort of a sad little leftover of parenting right there.
It’s a little depressing, really.
But still– being on the final slope of four kids gives you the right to, say, cut PE.
For those who are unfamiliar with back to school night at the middle and high school ages, parents usually go to school and spend about ten minutes in each of their kids’ classrooms, while the teacher tells them what’s important, contact information, textbook, etc. In this case, I had to walk from a classroom, across the campus to the MP room, and back to the classroom next to the one I’d just left.
And I decided no. I’m 51 goddamned years old and I could cut gym.
So I sat down in the pleasant evening, knitted a little, waited for the next class, and then continued on my way. Until fifth period where I heard three people discussing how this was their sixth and final year doing back to school night at the middle school.
“Oh my God, and why is gym always on the other side of the campus from the next class my kid has!”
I looked at them surprise. “Gym? I cut gym. This is my fourth kid–I’m pretty sure gym hasn’t changed appreciably since *I* was in school.”
They looked at me in awe. “Wow. You’re right. That’s so smart. I wish *I* had cut gym!”
So there you go, folks. It took thirty-nine years, but finally, FINALLY, I am too goddamned cool for middle-school.