Going along with my earlier story around senior prom, there are certain benefits to being married to a full-time teacher. One of them, and probably the most obvious, is that my spouse gets her summers off - which means lots of sleep-in time for her, more home cooked meals for me, and chores may mysteriously get done while I'm at the office by the housecleaning fairy!
Thursday marked the final school day and graduation, and my wife wrapped up the ceremony through emotionally saying goodbye to this year's seniors, who will no doubt be replaced in her heart by next year's seniors in the same fashion. Friday was an administrative clean up day, and the next two months see her out of the classroom and more at home, with time to focus on all those big projects that didn't get done during the school year. It's part of an annual ritual around these parts to see if the condo gets repainted, if things are finally sent to goodwill, or if our furniture will get upgraded. And as with the beginning of every summer, I don't yet have the answer.
In parallel begins the bigger threat of my expanding waistline. Mondays through Fridays might find me coming home to an elaborate home-cooked meal, not seen since August of 2005. While we may have been able to get away with cereal or whatever was in the freezer before, our excuses are gone, and we'll look into buying ever larger belts and slacks as we accommodate the largess.
And somehow, while she recuperates, I keep going, because the office still needs me, and I don't get summer break. It's almost enough to get me looking into what it takes to be a first-year teacher anyhow.
Listening to ''Bigmouth (1992)'', by Underworld (Play Count: 8)
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