Thursday, October 20, 2011

Something for Everyone

Every year, educators and students throughout the state of Minnesota pause for a two day breath, of sorts, called Education Minnesota -- a Thursday and Friday in which educators educate themselves and students, well, frolic during two days of freedom.

Monday, the Matron realized that this year was actually the Education Minnesota Festival -- not two, but three days without school for her three children.

Tuesday, the Matron realized that the Education Minnesota Festival meant that she herself was also liberated from teaching her Thursday class, if not from grading all of those papers and exams. Drat.

Wednesday morning, as the children woke, the Matron realized that while HWCBN and the Diva were fully loaded with activities and homework, Merrick had NOTHING TO DO.


Matron on phone: "N? Can J play?"

Matron on phone: "H? Can R play?"

Matron on phone: "Grandma? Do you want company?"

Email: "hi hope all is well . . we'd love to see (insert name of close friend and then distant relative) today. . we can host AND I can drive . . no rush to let me know but here's my cell number.

Nothing. All of the buddies were already farmed out to various camps by parents who actually think more than two hours ahead.

Matron: "Merrick honey, there are no friends. Stryker and Scarlett are both going to be gone almost all day today and tomorrow. Dad and I both have to work. You're just going to have to hang in there and find some stuff to do, okay?" Translation: you get to watch TV for three days

Good sport that he is, Merrick did the only logical thing. He put on his favorite camouflage footie pajamas, grabbed a dog or two, and hunkered in for some quality screen time. For the next day and a half, he basically sat in the back of the van while the other children were transported, watched TV, played with a stick and waited for his parents to feed him.

Finally, today, the Matron took pity on her baby.

Matron: "Merrick! Let's do something fun, just for a little while!"

She suggested the dog park, children's museum, science museum, the magic shop, Candyland, bike ride, tennis.

Merrick: "No, thank you."

She was sure that television ripped out his soul!

Until . . .

Merrick: "Mom? Can I go to the uniform store?"

Now, Merrick - he of all things police and militia - just so happened to know that A) there was such a thing as a uniform store that sold holsters, night sticks, mace, police hats, sun glasses, boots, etc. and B) where that store was.

And so the highlight of Merrick's Minnesota Education Festival? Forty-five minutes sighing with deep-seated joy over police boots, uniforms, pins, holsters and rain jackets.

It takes all kinds. . . and this one is hers. Who is currently sleeping with his brand new compromise $8. nightstick, which the Matron deemed far more acceptable than the much lobbied for mace.

Good night Merrick. Just one more Festival day left.


Anonymous said...

You have to feel safer, knowing he's sleeping with a weapon handy.

Jenn @ Juggling Life said...

My youngest son's uniform store was the hammock store--it was always his first choice when he could pick an outing.

Irene said...

I think my son would have liked the uniform store had he known about it. We had no idea that there were these sorts of outings. He would have been happy with a pair of handcuffs.