Just watched a neighbour’s daughter head off with some pals in a limo – quite probably to their end of Primary School ‘prom’. A Prom at 10/11 years old? Bejebus!
What happened to a cursory “Good luck in High School” pat on the back from your teacher before they shut the door tightly behind you on the way out?
Now it’s all medal presentation ceremonies, red carpets past the photocopier and who’s asking who to be their date? These kids watch too much TV!
Personally, in this neck of the woods I think it could well go less ‘Enchantment Under the Sea’ and more ‘Carrie‘ next week when our lot have their own Prom. Put it this way. When I make my cameo (just to see what they’re all wearing) I’ll be hanging back near the fire doors with my eyes on the ball. There’s plenty there who’d happily tread over me to escape in event of a telekinetic revenge attack.
I’d love to babble further but I’m double busy, raking though 6 years worth of photos from school in order to create personalised photo CDs for 30 children (although apparently that’s not enough of a memento!)
Roll on 3pm on the 19th when I would love to mostly collapse into a heap, like a husk of my former self, where I could remain, foetal and resting until September 2nd… except I can’t because the summer holidays fill me with dread at the prospect of having to entertain 2 argumentative childerbeast, day after day, with no drivers licence, precious little financial resource, and even less patience.