Lord, y’all, this is going to be a doozy for me. The Oldest One brought home a formal invitation for her 5th grade graduation. In very fancy writing, it says:
With great happiness, we,
the Fifth Grade Class of (I ain’t dumb enough to list her school y’all),
invite you to join us on
Friday, the twenty-second of May,
two thousand and fifteen
at nine o’clock in the morning.
Appropriate attire is encouraged.*
*For those of you that aren’t in the South, that means leave your wife beaters and camo at home.
Let’s talk about these snowflakes, ok? I love my child. She is brilliant (typical straight A’s) and I am proud of her for pulling her C up after I asked her if she liked fifth grade so much she wanted to do it all over again. I think she is sweet as pie and the cats pajamas and all those things. I love being her mother.
But folks, graduating fifth grade is REQUIRED BY LAW. Why are we acting as though passing a grade is something worthy of pomp and circumstance? It is not. I appreciate you brushing your teeth every day, but I am not holding a ceremony over that either. If she does not go on from fifth grade, they will jail me. School is compulsory. SO IS MY WORK, AND I’M NOT USING VACATION TIME FOR THIS.