You learn something new every day...

The Team WestEnders Atlanta odyssey continued on Saturday with an excursion to nearby Stone Mountain. We’d read in some tourism brochure that it was a landmark you could hike to the top of, to gain a sweeping view of the city and surrounding area. Well, lemme tell ya, that’s the fancy-words propaganda version…what they actually MEANT to say was “it’s a big-ass hunk o’granite that you can plow your way straight up…and if you make it, you might be rewarded with a lovely vista, blah blah blah”. (I should totally write their material, yeah?)

So we started marching up the side of this thing, along with the multitudes of other visitors from toddler age to senior citizens (some of whom were NOT dressed for strenuous outdoor activity, I’m just sayin’. Yeah, Ms. flip-flops, sparkly tank top, and skinny jeans, I’m talking to you…). After a sweaty, heart-pounding trek, we reached the summit…where most of the promised scenic landscape was obscured by the muggy haze blanketing our little corner of Georgia that day. Oh well, it was worth a shot…

However, there was one more…ahem..."feature"…we had to find. You see, Derek had heard in one of his history classes that Stone Mountain was called (brace yourself) “the Confederate Mt. Rushmore”, and he was dying to discover why it had earned this moniker. We figured it was probably just a plaque somewhere, or a flag, or something (hopefully) subtle. Ohhh, it wasn’t. When we found the massive carving on the other side of the rock, our collective jaws hit the ground in shock…and horror. Yep, that would be Jefferson Davis, Robert E. Lee, and Andrew Jackson, MUCH larger than life, and preserved for all eternity. Just…I can't even...y’all.

It was all we could do not to turn our Yankee selves around and run screaming, but being us, of course we had to process our thoughts and discuss it a little bit first. Here’s a summary of what we came up with:

Me: That’s…infuriatingly offensive.

Riley: (couldn’t even express his distaste, but only managed to shake his head ruefully)

Husband: It’s….a travesty.

Derek: (interjecting brightly into his family's collective somber demeanor, with a wickedly mischievous grin) Heeeyyyy...can I buy a t-shirt? (Which naturally lightened the mood considerably-- even while earning him a well-deserved smack.)

Ohhh-kaaay….moving right along: on Sunday we planned to venture to the town of Athens, sort of on our way home, to explore the University of Georgia while we were “in the neighborhood”. I must say, there were some conflicted thoughts going into this, though—such as the fact that the University of South Carolina and UGA are fierce sports rivals. You didn't know that? You clearly haven't had the...benefit...of Derek mentioning “Week 2 of the football season” in conversation at every possible opportunity (when the teams will...I don't know...enact their gridiron clash of the titans…or whatever).

Anyway, this is excuse Derek gave for why he would not, under any circumstances, be photographed during our outing—and he proceeded to duck comically behind bushes, and dart erratically out of the frame, every time I took out my camera. However....never one to back down from a challenge, I managed to get a sneaky shot while his back was turned and he wasn’t expecting it. His reaction was priceless: supreme indignation, throwing up his hands and shouting, “Jeez, Mom, you had ONE job!” Then for the next 20 minutes or so (which was as long as he could sustain his faux outrage), he enacted his revenge, refusing to speak directly to me, and instead asking Riley to convey his responses to my comments…even though I was right behind him, and could hear him perfectly. (Riley of course thought this was hysterical, and played right along. Overgrown brats…)

Aaannnd then there was Riley’s issue…he had been so taken with Georgia Tech that he'd purchased a souvenir in the bookstore…a banner that simply proclaims THWG. Don’t worry, I had to ask what it meant, too: in short, To Hell With…Georgia. (And yes, after a little bit of parental consideration I allowed him to get it, having deemed it amusing…and only mildly inappropriate…)

So Riley was honestly hoping NOT to like this campus as much as Tech, to avoid any potential crises in the (not-so-distant) future when he begins seriously thinking about where he might want to attend college. (And can we just pause one moment for the obligatory Mom Freak Out: Ack! Didn’t we JUST do this? It can’t be time to go down this road again already, right? Okay, I’m better now….)

In all fairness to UGA, though, the grounds are gorgeous, boasting towering, stately old trees and ornate, classical architecture. 

Hmm…about that…it occurred to me as we strolled through the quads and around the buildings that the whole thing gave off kind of a…plantation air. The commemorative sign that described how the school had closed during one period…so students and professors could support the…"War for Southern Independence”…did nothing to dispel this impression. (And once again—ay yi yi with the Confederate spin on history. I find it very disconcerting….)

Anyway, it turned out not to matter all that much, since Riley declared very shortly into our tour that he wouldn’t want to spend 4 years there. To summarize, he asserted that he preferred the smaller, centrally-organized Georgia Tech, with its proximity to Atlanta, over the sprawling, enormous Georgia, set in a small town.

Or, as Derek phrased it in his own unique way: “So, you’re looking at the ACC, rather than the SEC—and forget about the Big Ten schools, you’d hate them!” (Siiiighhhh…leave it to my sports fanatic son to reduce the complex, deeply personal college search to…an ESPN sound bite!)  Alrighty, then—Riley was also pleased that this comparative exercise helped him to crystallize what he does and doesn’t want from his potential institution of higher learning. Mission (that we didn’t even know we were attempting) accomplished!

And with that, our Georgian ramble of 2018 was finished. We took our drippy selves (goodness gracious, it’s HOOOOTTT in the South…in June…) back to the car to navigate 350-ish miles northeast (and well out of Dixie). Thanks for the new memories, Atlanta--our experience was certainly…all kinds of educational!

Education...sea creatures...and America's pastime (oh, my!)

For the first official getaway of Summer 2018, Team WestEnders chose to revisit an old favorite: Atlanta. We spent a long weekend there 2 years ago and thoroughly entertained ourselves, but weren't able to squeeze in all the things that interested us...so we decided to return for another go-round.

But first, there was the ever-delightful (or, you know, "death defying") I-85 Derby to navigate. At least the middle section, which was designated at Derek's Shift, passed amusingly...since he took control of the radio with his own carefully-constructed playlist...of country music. Now, I have nothing against this sort of thing--in theory--but I do tend to be extremely picky about which artists I enjoy in this genre. (Let's just say, "yes" to crossover pop-y, "hard no" to twangy and/or sappy.) So my beloved smart aleck son purposefully selected the first song just for me...a charming little ditty entitled...Shut Up and Fish. Oy. (Needless to say, I HATED it...) After that, though, we played a fun game in which I'd ask "Who sings this" (as there were very few I could identify by myself, based on the voice alone), then rate each one as to whether I liked it, loathed it, or had no opinion one way or the other. Fortunately, my reward for surviving this exercise was his second group of tunes, which ran more along the lines of  One-D, Biebs, T-Swift, and Maroon 5. (Whew!)

After making it through the grueling odyssey that is Atlanta traffic--and I'm not even going to bother telling you how long the trip actually took, compared to how long it was supposed to--we arrived in Buckhead, where we would be staying for the duration of our adventures. We'd already determined ahead of time that we wanted to eat dinner at a place we'd discovered on our first sojourn: Farm Burger...or, more accurately "beef (Husband and oldest son) and veggie (younger child) patties, kale salad (me--duh), fries, and onion rings (ALL). As we remembered, it was super-yum. Even better, we were able to shake off our extended day in the car by walking there from our hotel, so by the time we headed back to our suite, we had full bellies, good spirits, and our legs had gotten at least slightly stretched out.

The next day we'd planned a full agenda of storming the city (albeit in a totally friendly fashion), starting with a self-guided tour of the Georgia Institute of Technology...or Georgia Tech, as it's more commonly known...G-Tech, which we lazily began using as the day progressed...or...G-Twizzle, which Derek coined, and we all found ridiculously hilarious, so we adopted it. (I suspect we'll have to rein that in if Riley actually ends up at school here...but for now, it sticks...) As we prepared to depart for our campus constitutional, Derek set the tone for the morning by remarking in a vaguely satisfied tone, "Yep, it's not a family vacation unless the car smells faintly of sunblock!" Well alrighty, then--I guess we're off to a good--UV protected--start!

Okay, without further silliness (for the moment) let's move on to the school itself, which all members of Team WestEnders awarded a hearty thumbs-up. First, we approved of the location, nestled as it is into a corner of Atlanta. However, while the tall buildings of the skyline were clearly visible, and you were aware that you were surrounded by a bustling metropolis, the grounds remained surprisingly and pleasantly quiet, sheltered as they were by copious amounts of trees, wide areas of green space, and a combination of lovely red brick, and modern steel-and-glass buildings.

Speaking of which, while wandering around and exploring, we took note of all the cutting-edge features apparent at the university, such as the high-tech science labs and classrooms, state-of-the-art student rec center...and one of our faves: the roof of the Clough Undergraduate Learning Commons, which boasts a garden covering its entire surface area, with tables and chairs set amidst the array of decorative, well-manicured plants, for students to study--while also basking in the great outdoors.

After admiring these impressive aspects of the institution, we had worked up an appetite. So it seemed like an ideal opportunity to seek out and evaluate some on-site dining options. We located a food court that--besides Coke, which is apparently the required beverage in Atlanta--contained a variety of other edibles. Better yet, we also stumbled upon a cool hangout spot, with a mini-bowling alley; pool, ping pong, and air hockey tables; a movie theater; and a lounge with a stage for live music. The way his eyes lit up when he took all of this in, I swear Riley was ready to fill out his application for (reeeaalllly) early admission...immediately. Finally, we made the obligatory trek to the stadiums (baseball, football, and soccer), to pay homage to the sports teams...and called it a successful...information-gathering outing.

And then, it was straight on to the next endeavor, otherwise known as the Atlanta Aquarium. It was awesome to escape the muggy heat for a few hours and ogle a plethora of underwater species..es...in their (generally) peaceful, soothing habitats. From the playful, adorable penguins and otters, to the hypnotically captivating jellyfish, to the creepy-crawly eels and snakes, it was all fascinating. But the absolute best part had to be the walk-through tunnel, where you could stand and watch ENORMOUS creatures glide above or beside you--like an 8-foot (not even full-grown) grouper, manta rays with 5-yard wingspans, and the most astonishing to me, whale sharks weighing several tons each. Seriously, an employee actually laughed at me and made a teasing "pick your mouth up off the floor" motion while I was frozen in place, gaping at the spectacle. Worth the price of admission, I tell ya.

Once we'd had our share of frolicking with the fishes, we got a reprieve for a few hours, before our final activity of the evening--a baseball game at SunTrust Park, the new home of the Braves (Ha! Sorry. And can I just add: corporate naming rights result in such booooring monikers...), where they would be hosting our own Baltimore Orioles. Since it would be our first foray to the field, I opted for the pre-paid parking...and we did not regret this, once we had safely stowed our vehicle at a nearby mall, in an underground lot, a short walk away from the action. It allowed us to approach the scene by strolling through what can only be described as a full-on party atmosphere. Bars, restaurants, and shops open to the sidewalk, crowds of people milling about, loud music and conversation--Derek described it as "like a baseball...frat!" (As if he would know...yet somehow, he was not wrong...)

Until you got close to the entrance gate, that is...then you came to a screeching halt while you waited for the strictest security check I've ever experienced outside of an airport. No kidding--they poke into every corner of your bag, scan  your cell phone, and direct you through an honest-to-goodness metal detector on your way in. I have to wonder what the HECK Atlanta's crime rate looks like, with those kinds of precautionary measures! At least they were thoughtful enough to install a gigantic television screen next to the line-up, so you can watch what's going on inside until you're able to join in the festivities.

Once we did make it in the front door, as it were, we found that our seats afforded us a sweeping view of the diamond, the Jumbotron, and the scoreboard. And everything was...nice. Don't get me wrong, it was all sparkly and polished (like a toy that just came out of the box) and a perfectly fine place to see a ballgame...it just didn't thrill me. If I had to put my finger on it, I'd say it seemed cold, and lacked a certain amount of charm that even Turner Field managed to exude, in my opinion. But we were obviously there for the 9-innings (or so we thought...more on that later); thus we settled in to watch the contest. It was 1-0 in our favor for quite a while--which was somewhat shocking, given the pitching performances put forth by the Orioles lately. Eventually, though, the Braves struck back, going ahead 3-1 in the 8th.

And then...the 9th frame happened...starting with the Os plating 6 runs in their half. So, that should be it, right? All the visitors needed was THREE MEASLY OUTS to secure the victory...and allow Team WestEnders to pack it in for the night and go to bed content. Also I could finally stop hearing the annoying tomahawk chop that fans do incessantly--and which is cool to witness once or twice, because sometimes the Braves' powers-that-be turn out the lights in the stadium, and folks wave their phone flashlights while making the eerie "ohhhh, ohhh, ohhh" noise--but trust me, it gets super-old after the 8th...or millionth...time.

But noooo...the Birds' bullpen promptly imploded, giving 4 runs right back in the bottom of the 9th, and for those of you scoring at home, that left us all tied up at the end of regulation, as they say. At this point it had been a 4-hour shindig, at the end of an already looooong day, and the clock was pushing 11:30...so those of us who were old(er) and (more) tired decreed that we'd be leaving after the Orioles batted in the 10th...regardless of whether anyone had won.

Aaand, they had NOT. We trudged back to the garage...drove all the way to the hotel while listening to the game-broadcast on the radio...took showers and got ready for bed with ESPN on in the background so we could continue to monitor the nonsense...and when we finally hit the sheets at 12:45 a.m., there was still no decision. As it turns out, we checked first thing in the morning and learned that Manny Machado had ended the ridiculous affair in the 15th, with a 2-run homer. Ay yi yi. Nice going, Manny--we were totally with you...in spirit!

And there you have it: a jam-packed day o'gallivanting in Atlanta. For now, we rest...and tomorrow, we tackle all the history...and whatnot!

A Tale of...Two Towns...and One City

Once last weekend's graduation-palooza reached its satisfying conclusion, my sister was luckily able to stick around a while longer and hang out with us. So it seemed like a no-brainer that we'd get out and about for some essential touristy-type activities, exploring at least the Chapel Hill/Durham 2/3 of the Triangle.

We hit the ground running on Sunday morning, with a much-needed excursion to obtain iced, caffeinated refreshments. (Which proved the perfect antidote to even a non-alcoholic-celebration-hangover...yummm!) Since our local Starbucks is conveniently situated in the heart of Tarheel-nation, I parked the car and we set off on foot to meander Franklin Street and take in the sights. I took the opportunity to point out various Chapel Hill institutions (such as Top of the Hill, the Carolina Coffee Shop, Sugarland Bakery, and Sutton's Drugstore, to name a few) as well as several souvenir emporiums that proudly offer not only supportive and tasteful UNC gear of all kinds...but also hilarious anti-Duke apparel that ranges from the mildly obnoxious to the wildly inappropriate. (My Blue-Devils-fan sibling accepted this graciously...especially knowing that I'd already promised her a jaunt to Durham at a later point, so she could get her...collegiate rival revenge...or whatever...)

And obviously, we couldn't leave the scene without strolling onto the grounds of UNC, to admire its canopy of majestic shade trees, stately, serene red brick buildings (quiet and still now that the students are gone for the Summer, at least), and of course one of its iconic landmarks, the Old Well. No doubt fortified by the Frappuccino, she survived the experience (and even managed to look happy about it!).

Perhaps that's due to the fact that she was already looking forward to the next field trip, to that other Blue Blood bastion of higher learning just a few miles away. Now it was MY turn to smile politely while patiently enduring a visit to the wrong side of the tracks--er "Triangle". (Totally kidding--I  stop by the gardens on campus on a regular basis...but I tend to avoid the Krzyzewski-ville section like the plague that it is...to Carolina supporters.)

After taking care of the first order of business--the fangirl spending gobs of moolah on Duke-themed apparel and whatnot in the university store--we wandered through the cool, hushed, elegant chapel, with its towering organ and soaring stained glass windows; the always-gorgeous botanical displays; and, finally, the mecca for any Dooook...ie (snickers immaturely), the stadium complex, where my sister was unfortunately only able to pay her respects to the outside of Cameron (home of the basketball teams, if you're wondering), rather than being allowed to wander freely through its halls, oohing and ahhing at every turn. (Seriously, did we neglect to tell them we were coming so they could roll out the red carpet...or at least leave the doors unlocked? Doh!)

Having completed our dual-collegiate tour on a warm, steamy day, we finished our regional tribute by settling in for dinner at yet another beloved local destination: Elmo's Diner in Carrboro. From pancakes to a burger to a sweet potato and bean burrito, that place never disappoints! Thus fortified,  we needed to rest up for the continuing antics the following day, which would include a whirlwind outing through our neighbor to the slightly-east, Durm (spelling intentional--it's an affectionate nickname thing, apparently).

Wonder of wonders, we actually got the teenagers to consent to accompany us on our adventures--which actually isn't that surprising, considering we would be making a pilgrimage to one of their favorite spots: the DBAP (pronounced Dee-Bap, and shorthand for the Durham Bulls Athletic Park). Although the website proved uninformative, we happily discovered when we arrived that the ballpark store was open...allowing mi hermana to add to her collection of travel mementos. Then we played sightseers for a while, circling the field, reading the commemorative plaques around the exterior, soaking in the baseball atmosphere, and paying homage to the famous outfield bull. 

Finally we headed back to the Subaru, to drive around and see some more of the city. Downtown, the Warehouse District, Brightleaf, the 9th Street corridor--somehow...sheerly by winging it, I tell ya...I managed to hit all of these without having to resort to the GPS. Therefore, we got a nice glimpse of some of Durham's character--what I tend to think of as a mixture of lovingly preserved history...a dash of gritty urban decay...and a good dose of newly-renovated upscale chic. 

I feel like we squeezed in as much entertainment as we possibly could on this sister-sojourn, but it was time to say farewell and let her return to her life in the northern Mid-Atlantic. There are many more things to see and do the next time she makes her way to NC...in the meantime, Team WestEnders will be making our Summer journey to MD in just a few weeks, so we'll get to do the whole thing in reverse. In fact, I just realized that there's plenty of time for me to pick up something with a Tarheels logo for her upcoming birthday...since she seems to have somehow...forgotten...to acquire anything fitting that description while she was here...ha! Here's to more future family fun!

Diploma-cy (Ha! Sorry...)

Team WestEnders--along with some of their key supporters--came together this past weekend to mark a huuuge milestone for one of our members. Although he will be continuing on to college, by far the longest stretch of Derek's educational journey, which began in Kindergarten at age 5, culminated in him walking across the stage at UNC's Dean Smith Center to receive his High School diploma.

On hand were his favorite aunt (okay, technically his only one--but she's earned her top ranking in any case), who also happens to be my sister. It was her first time visiting us in NC, so she came down early to spend some extra extended-family-bonding-time. (Yay!) Then his godparents (whom we affectionately call Fairy (godmother) and Don (as in Corleone...the OG godfather) and their kids (who are like bonus cousins) arrived, and the Celebration Squad was officially complete.

Once everyone was on-hand, we kicked things off in style--with a pizza and movie night. (Hey, it was the end of a loooong week, so it seemed like the thing to do...) For our cinematic selection, we chose an iconic baseball movie: Bull Durham. Now, my family happens to be enormous baseball fans, so this is a beloved film...which we've watched so many times that we frequently throw random quotes from the script into casual conversation, and crack ourselves us...even if no one else quite catches on to what the heck is so funny.

And we've been saying to Derek--oh, since he was about 8, if you believe HIM--that he reeeaallyyy has to see it...once he's old enough. So the other day when I mentioned that it's one of the things I want to do with him before he goes away to college in the Fall, he exasperatedly replied, "Ya know, Mom, I'm above the age to get into R-rated movies. And I'm 18 now, so I'm technically an adult. So when is it going to be okay with you?"

I'm not gonna say he didn't have a valid point...so the answer was "how about NOW!?" and we all settled in to pay our respects to "the church of baseball" At various points during the show, he'd turn to us with a mega-grin and nod his head, saying, "Yep, I finally understand why you say that!" Introducing a new generation to a classic flick...while enjoying some extra-special family togetherness...CHECK!

Then it was on to the Main Event--which began on Saturday with a period of carefully orchestrated...semi-controlled chaos. Of course, this is to be expected when one High School Senior, 5 other adults, and 3 related minors need to get themselves properly attired and...for the females among us, at least, otherwise gussied up...loaded into various vehicles at several different times...and transported to the ceremony. Yeah, it was kind of a circus, I tell ya. But we all made it (on time, even, which is a miracle of no small magnitude), and prepared ourselves for the moment when the first strains of the inevitable Pomp and Circumstance played over the sound system.

To be honest, I was expecting that to be my cue for waterworks, but it just seemed so...surreal...that I was able to keep it together. Observing as the 325 soon-to-be-former-students processed in and took their seats felt like watching another movie...until I spotted Derek in the back row. Seeing my own kid in his black robe, gold sash, and mortarboard made the situation at least a little bit more concrete. We, along with the rest of the Peanut Gallery--I mean "friends, relatives, and honored guests"--endured the usual graduation...stuff...like the opening remarks from the Principal, recognition of (30-ish!) Valedictorians, speeches from (multiple) students...until finally the much-anticipated moment arrived when the graduates-to-be heard their names, strolled across the stage, and received their get-out-of-school-free papers.

And in the space of a few heartbeats, 13 years' worth of numbers flashed before my eyes--like the repeated cycle of 10 months, 4 quarters, and 180 days; the 6 years in Elementary, 3 in Middle, and 4 in High school; the endless pattern of 4 core classes and countless electives--and then came to an end. The class of 2018 exited in an orderly fashion...into a massive swarm of waiting loved ones, all of whom were attempting to reunite with their one special alum (and get the heck outta Dodge--er, "campus"). Once we had located our Derek, we bid the university farewell and headed back to Casa WestEnders to kick off the relaxation and fiesta portion of our weekend.

In our case, this involved food and--because we'd started a theme the previous night, apparently--yet another movie about America's pastime: Major League. We just managed to squeeze this in before we wished Derek good night and godspeed...since he planned to attend the free, all-night party known as Project Graduation (an event designed to provide an entertaining, social shindig to keep the Seniors safe, amused...and off the streets... after their commencement). The rest of us, meanwhile, collapsed in relief on the sofas, worn out from the rewarding and memorable--but also emotionally draining--day of...hoopla.

But in all seriousness, I don't think it's quite sunk in yet...that my oldest child is now a High School graduate. I think it's going to be more of a...process...coming to grips with this whole concept. Because don't get me wrong, I'm certainly not going to miss the daily grind, any more than Derek will. Yet...once I accept the fact that his High School career is over, I'm going to have to start dealing with a whole lot more...monumental...changes that are coming right around the bend--and I'm just not there yet. For now, I'm going to treasure the quality time we'll get to share this Summer...and sloooowly work on getting ready to drop him off at college in August. Baby. Steps!

The beginning of the end...

Well, another "end of the academic year" is upon us, bringing with it all the utterly delightful chaos and upheaval we've come to expect. I was reminded of this when Derek recounted a conversation he'd had with--oddly enough--one of Riley's Freshman friends the other day. It seems that--let's call him "Cody"--was both concerned and confused by the whole exam schedule...rigmarole...and sought reassurance from the experienced Senior, to make sure he was doing the right thing.

According to Derek, the poor kid was just finding it impossible to believe that if, for example, your first period class won't be having a final, you're not supposed to show up during the block of time set aside for that purpose. "You mean, I just...don't have to come? And I won't get in trouble?" Aaahhh, this really takes me back: I remember having this exact same chat when Derek was in 9th grade, and it sounded mighty suspicious that you were just...permitted...to stay home. I didn't think he was lying to me, by any means, but I nevertheless questioned Derek pretty rigorously at the time, before I finally accepted that he was giving me the correct information. So I totally get it, Cody--"sanctioned skipping" just seems bizarre...but you can take his word for it...and let me just say, "Welcome to the magical world of High School!"

So this year Team WestEnders has TWO people dealing with this phenomenon, making the daily agenda a bit...wacky. Let's see...on Monday, Derek got to remain at home all day, since he already wrapped up his 1st period (AP Stat) and had a study hall 2nd period. But Riley had to be at school in the morning, for his 1st period math exam, before getting to walk home at lunch time, because he'd already completed his 2nd period PE fitness test. Continuing...on Tuesday, Derek will spend a leisurely morning en casa, having taken the AP Environmental Science exam last month. Then he'll finally have to grace campus with his presence in the afternoon--although I confess I'm not entirely certain why his AP Lit class has another test, which seems like total overkill, if you ask me...but whatever. Meanwhile, Riley will need to be in the hallowed halls of learning all day, for (amusingly) both Spanish and English exams. (And here's hoping his brain doesn't get them mixed up, yeah?)

Then--what are we up to? Wednesday? Okay, Derek will hang out at la escuela for both the a.m. (5th period Graphic Design) and p.m. (6th period U.S. History) slots. Riley will enjoy an unencumbered morning, (since his Drafting teacher gave students the option of taking either a final exam, or a software certification test, and Riley opted for the latter), then stroll in for his post-lunch World History final. Finally, both boys will finish their 7th period exams during the early Thursday block (a science-y duo of BioMedical Interventions for Derek, and straight-up Biology for Riley)...after which they'll be D-O-N-E with tests, classes, the 2017-18 school year...basically, the whole kit-and-caboodle.

However, while Riley will undoubtedly revel in the hard-won freedom he has earned...to sleep in on Friday while Elementary and Middle schoolers slog through their last day...Derek will be required not only to get up extra-early, but also to participate in a graduation run-through with his classmates, on UNC's campus. Oh, well--at least I'm pretty sure he doesn't have to wear the robe for it. Which leads me to one more story, regarding the wardrobe requirements for the upcoming ceremony. The correspondence we received from school stated that students should wear "business casual" attire.
Now, Derek--with his "all t-shirt and shorts, all the time" nature--understandably wasn't clear on what this meant, so I told him I'd recommend dress pants, a button-down shirt, and a tie.

When Husband heard about it, he commented mildly, "Business casual doesn't usually include a tie." Derek quickly swiveled his head to me, his expression quizzical, as if awaiting the final verdict. And after a moment's consideration I responded, "Hmm...if you don't mind, I'd prefer you wear one anyway." That seemed to settle it to his satisfaction (especially when I offered to take him shopping for his OWN shirt and tie, so he wouldn't have to keep raiding Husband's closet in the event of any... formal...ish occasions arising...which after all, he wouldn't be able to do from South Carolina, anyway, right?)

Of course, this opened up the discussion for the rest of the goofballs--I mean "Male Trio", with Riley asking hesitantly, "Um...what do you want ME to wear?" This one was easy: "Eh, you're not the one on stage, so nice shorts and a polo is fine." He looked quite relieved, and endorsed this plan immediately. On the other hand, Husband still seemed to be pondering just how...work-like...he would be expected to appear. At this point my attention must have drifted a smidge, otherwise I never would have offhandedly remarked, "If it helps, I'll be in a skirt, blouse, and sandals." I can't imagine what I was thinking, but his instantaneous, earnest reply was an entirely unsurprising, "Oh, I'm not wearing a SKIRT!" Siiighhhh...I suppose I'll count myself lucky if everyone abides by the "mandatory shirt and trousers rule"...which I just made up, by SHHHHH, don't tell them, okay? Trust me, it's in everyone's best interest...

And there you have it...graduation...and SUMMER, here we come! Wheeeee!