The last day of school is always such a melancholy, bittersweet experience. They have snacks at school, exchange phone numbers, and try not to cry. Then they head home with the whisper of summer behind them. Quite a lot for a kid to digest in one day.
Today they sprang through the door with their report cards. Dominic had already ripped his open on the bus, as he always does. Ripley, of course, didn't realize it was in her bag. At our school, getting a "3" means you are good, you are smart, you've done your job. "4" is gods score. They do not part with these easily. My brilliant son received...drum role please... 8 of them! Couldn't be prouder. Kindergartners rarely receive a "4." Ripley got three!
To top off the day, we joined Dominic's football team for an end of season pizza party. There he received his trophy. I asked him if it was a plastic trophy or a blood, sweat, and tears trophy. He blushed, and mumbled "blood, sweat, and tears."
Congratulations to my beautiful and brilliant children. I couldn't be prouder.
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