A shoebox? Why? Could you have mentioned this earlier, too? My diorama supplies have been exhausted.
No, I don’t know what we’re having for dinner. No, we’re not ordering pizza. Can we focus on right now, please.
Dude. Get off of the floor. I know the dog loves it when you’re down there. Get. Up. Brush your teeth. Then you should have eaten the cereal when we gave it to you. Now is not cereal-eating time; it’s getting-out-the-dang-door time.
Wait. Today is another half-day? Rats.
And on and on. The me of right now laughs at the beginning-of-the-school-year me.
It’s not just about how tired we are of the routine, it’s also about how all of the end-of-year capstone events stack up on each other. We need to register for summer programs by when? Is today the band concert or the school play? Which parent and kid combo needs to be where when? And which accessories are also needed?
(An aside: I have no idea how elementary school band teachers do it. I tip my proverbial cap to you. Your patience is mighty.)
Right now, we’re weary and scrambling. We’re ready to not push quite so hard to fit it all in. Enough already.
The teachers must be struggling through these last few weeks, too. All of the children’s quirks and habits have got to be wearing thin by now. Their daily school routines are just as chaotic at this point as ours are at home. Plus, the parents aren’t helping, what with the crumpled homework and smelly offspring.
I’m looking forward to the day after the last day of school, when we can all sleep in and rush only from our beds to the back porch. It will be a delight.