"Because it's 55 degrees outside."
"But it's SUMMER VACATION!" He was adorably indignant. Don't tell him I said that. He still hates to be called adorable or any of its synonyms. Even if he is, especially like just now, when he came inside telling me he's scared to go back out into the shed. When I asked him why, he said that "I heard a rumbling sound while I was in there!"
"What do you think it was?"
"Well, it was either my stomach, or something scary. So I'm not taking any chances."
In end of school year news, all of our children survived. Adelaide won the fifth grade spelling bee. I was delighted for her. She was conspicuously underwhelmed.
Atticus ran 32 miles throughout the spring in Mileage Club, an activity sponsored by a local hospital where volunteers track how many miles participating students choose to run at recess. It's his highest mileage to date, and he is thrilled.
|Okay, so this isn't exactly his thrilled face, but you get the idea.|
I probably should have tossed some parental pearls of wisdom his way, but I couldn't as I totally get what he's saying. I feel the same thing when I see leftover marathon finishers' tech shirts at athletic outlet stores, wondering who the heck would buy those when they're clearly meant for people who actually finished those specific races?
Adelaide had a couple music concerts, including band.
We got to watch her perform on a variety of percussion instruments. She still enjoys band, and we enjoy watching her. My eardrums already seemed less likely to spontaneously implode out of sheer self defense at this concert compared to her first five months ago. Apparently elementary school band members improve at a rapid rate- well, that and they already shed the people who quickly discovered they didn't want to be there.
Caedmon was dragged around to this and all kinds of other events: the life of the third child.
The boys are currently attempting to dislodge a badminton birdie (shuttlecock? Is that the right word? I feel like I could be making that up) from the roof of the shed, so when, just now, I heard what sounded like a gunshot echoing through our neighborhood, I jolted out of my chair and out the door to make sure our boys weren't responsible for said noise. Never mind that we don't actually own a gun, or that they're using a jump rope to coax the birdie off roof; I feel like stranger, more inexplicable things tend to happen when they're within four feet of each other. Gah, my heart is still racing.
I guess it really is summer vacation.