It’s The Most Wonderful Night Of The Year…

Maybe it’s not the MOST wonderful, really, but it’s pretty high on my list.

Tonight is Curriculum Night at J’s high school. I adore Curriculum Night. In our school district, Curriculum Night in the high schools means that you follow your kid’s schedule (with each period shortened so the whole schedule fits into a two-hour time block) for the evening, taking in presentations from each teacher about what’s in store for the year.

Because I loved high school so much, Curriculum Night is like a trip back in time. It’s probably mostly in my mind because a trip back in time to my high school days would be a really, really long trip but nonetheless, I enjoy feeling for two hours like I’m back at good old FHS. (I wrote about one of D’s Curriculum Nights FOUR YEARS AGO, here.)

Tonight’s event, much like many other things that are coming up on the calendar, is going to be bittersweet because–here we go again–it’s J’s senior year and this is the last opportunity I’ll have to participate in something like this…unless I can talk D and J to let me go with them YEARS AND YEARS AND YEARS from now when their own kids are in high school.

I asked J to write down his schedule with room numbers for me, and then said, “Or, you can just make a copy of the schedule that you got on the first day of school.”

He said, “Yeah, they gave me, like, five copies. I’ll just give you one of those.”

Suddenly changing his mind, he grabbed a pad of paper and said, “I’ll just write it for you now.”

I looked at Jim and then looked back at J. “All I’m saying is, those room numbers need to be correct. I’m not going to be one of those parents that ends up in the wrong room and sits there for five minutes after the teacher starts talking before I realize that not only do I have the wrong room, but I have to take the time to figure out the right room. No way.”

Jim added, “So you’re going to get a noogie for every incorrect room number.”

“A NOOGIE!” I exclaimed. “No way! Let’s bring cash into this. I will fine J ten dollars for every room number that’s incorrect.”

J looked at me and said, “TEN DOLLARS? Well then. I will make sure that every room number is indeed correct because I will check it against one of the five copies of my schedule.”

He kept writing for a minute and then paused, ripped the sheet of paper off of the pad, and crumbled it up, throwing it away.

“I’m just going to give you one of those copies,” he said.

Well played, me!