Live Real. Eat Real.

High School Is Not a Musical

Hansome Boy!At least according to The Young One, who grumped through the morning like a Disney dwarf with bursitis.  I’m sure the fact that 47 of his closest friends chose to call him at 10:00 p.m. last night to talk about the impending first day of high school while I yelled, “GET TO BED ALREADY!!” in the background didn’t help.  Nor did the fact that we were both up at the crack of absurd this morning.

When I was in school, we had to be there at 8:00 a.m every morning, and we left each and every day at 3:00 p.m. (well, until my senior year when the really bright kids, like myself, managed to weasel in a study hall for first and last periods, meaning we could show up an hour late and leave an hour early).  We had 6 periods a day, and lunch.  This was true even when Darling Daughter was in high school (although they had block scheduling and managed to fit in 8 periods by having them attend 4 a day on alternating days).

Not so now – school starts here at 7:20 a.m., which means the bus comes at 6:45 which means he has to be at the bus stop no later than 6:35.  He has like 11 periods (don’t ask me how they manage this; I have NO idea) and they get out of school at 2:38 p.m.

2:38 p.m.  What, if they stay an extra two minutes all of the teachers will implode?

At any rate, he got off this morning without any tears or drama on either of our parts.  I don’t have any desire to wax poetic about how my baby is a mere four years away from college, or how he grew into a handsome and reasonably responsible young man seemingly overnight.  There will be no sappy prose about him starting a new phase of his life or his impending journey into young adulthood.

Mostly due to this conversation this morning.

“Young One, stop abusing your lunch!” I scolded, as he swung the paper bag around.  He immediately raised it in front of his face and began poking and slapping it around.

“Take that, rotten lunch!  Good for nothing!  Bad lunch – BAAAAAAD lunch!”

It’s going to be a looooong year.

From the blog