Today is Jude’s last day of school. We did it, another year.

Wyatt finished pre-school last week, which could not have come at a better time. While he started off the year strong, running into the classroom and wanting absolutely nothing to do with me, the last three weeks have been a shit storm of me trying to drop him off, him screaming, crying, trying to climb my body like a tree, and darting for the exit door.

We spent a week exploring various logical reasons he has regressed so randomly at the end of, what until that point had been, an uneventful, super fun year. We talked to teachers and school counselors, principals and classroom aides, looking for some sort of rational explanation as to Wyatt’s sudden intense fear of going to school.

Then casually on a Wyatt and mommy date to Chipotle, he told me he thinks the school bathroom is haunted and he can’t hold it all day, so he’d rather just stay home where he can pee without poltergeists seeing his junk.

I totally understand where he is coming from, and I couldn’t adore this kid more. I plan to tweet Bill Murray and J.K. Rowling about it this summer, because they are the only two people I would trust with bathroom ghost situations, and Wyatt refuses to wear a diaper.

I know a lot of parents get grumpy about summer vacation, and I get it. The kids are home all day, whiny, hot, bored, fighting… it sucks.

But when I balance all that against the following:

  • No more waking up at 6am on purpose, I honestly don’t want to see daylight until Price is Right comes on, and even then, I won’t get out of bed until I’m done heckling Drew about his weight loss and fake glasses.
  • No more last minute daily $4 ATM fees on the way to school because I never have baggies to put lunch stuff in, and Jude yells at me when I send him to school with a lunch bag full of food wrapped in leftover tortillas taped together. Ironically, I make a similar version of edible mexi-panties that Andy is always super psyched about, so I think Jude just has poor taste.
  • No more brushing our teeth. Kidding. Maybe.
  • I can drink earlier because I don’t have that whole pick up the kids sober driving obligation.
  • No more pretending George Stephanopoulos is as endearing as Josh Elliott, because he’s just not, GMA. He’s not. Plus, I don’t trust men under 5 feet tall, except for Peter Dinklage, and even then, it’s purely for sexual reasons.
  • I don’t have to worry about giving anyone lice. Or herpes. That, friends, was a boil, and I took a video of myself popping it, but Andy won’t let me post it. He is apparently the FCC of the internet.
  • No more pretending to understand kindergarten math and then crying on the deck getting high because why do we all need math all the time, what are we? China?
  • No more wondering why they stopped asking me to be a lunch mom.
  • Three months of no tuition payments, assuming I even made them, which I mostly did. Apparently you have to pay all the money in order to get your report card. And to that I say, who the fuck wants a report card?
  • No more making up excuses to call the kids off school because the garage door opener battery is dead, and like the tv, you can’t use your hands to manually work things in 2012. See, I’m not being lazy, dad, only the robots can control stuff now. It’s like he’s never seen Tron or Wall-E.
  • No one is eating anyone else’s face off. Apparently that’s a real life problem now.

See, summer just got a lot more doable for me. Well, all that plus the Dove I secretly started rubbing under my boobs, because I mean, really. Boobs don’t just smell pretty all summer on their own.

Happy Summer!

In honor of my new found summer freedom, I’m going to give away one (1) $100 Target gift card to someone. I really love buying unnecessary crap Target and just assume other people do to, so to win it, you have to leave me a comment, as many as you want really, mostly about awesome stuff like why summer vacation doesn’t suck or how you put deodorant under your boobs, too!

The giveaway ends tomorrow, May 31st, at 11:59pm EST.


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