B is for Back to School

Last night I was washing the dishes my WVU sophomore bought himself, preparing for move-in day tomorrow. On the top of the box he directed me to sat an innocuous assortment of silverware and what looked like red plastic cups from the olden days of Pizza Hut. As I washed those I dug further into the pile and discovered 3 beer glasses, 5 wine glasses and a cocktail shaker set. Suddenly I was forced with the tangible reality that Ayden may not just be keeping Gatorade in his mini-fridge, a delusion I’ve chosen to indulge until that moment.

I sent a picture to my best friend who commented, “Way to go Big A!”

That was not the correct response. 

This revelation followed two solid days of the youngest child behaving like she had been body snatched and replaced with a demon. 

I corrected the manifestation of her bad attitude as it spilled into the seams of mine and everyone else’s day. Her response – “You OBVIOUSLY don’t understand how stressed out I am about everything I have to do.”

Don’t I, young spawn? Let me remind you that this is not my first rodeo and you are not my first hormonally imbalanced teenager, sister. Oh, and just to be crystal clear, you have had all summer to do your honors packets. ALL SUMMER. 

Then after orientation the attitude took a small break and the actual sweet kid I raised returned. Ah, but it was too good to be true…I informed her that I would be picking up school supplies this afternoon and she became indignant.

“Don’t pick out any dumb colors. I wanted to go to Target for those and pick them out myself.”

Excuse me while I go bang my head against a wall…

Ok, I’m back. What exactly ARE “dumb colors”, anyway? Seeing as I’m not a monkey, and you are the fourth child of mine to attend high school, I am fairly certain I can choose some folders and notebooks that won’t make you a social pariah. And if you’d like to press the issue, darling, ask your sister who dressed up as a T-Rex on her campus her senior year. I still have the costume. Don’t push me.

Contrasting her completely this morning, I asked her brother, a senior, what kind of school supplies he needed.

“Um, I don’t know. A notebook, a folder…a pen?”

Way to be invested in your education, Avery. 

Addison, you are my new favorite. Congratulations. 

Happy 2019-20 School Year, Everyone! God help us all. I’m off to buy supplies in non-dumb colors.