I have an appeal to all the people out there who live in an alternate realm of reality!

100 days of school this year haven’t really been even close to a 100 days for most kids, thanks to COVID, parainfluenza, RSV, norovirus, and Influenza. More like 50-60 days of school at this point.

But I’m not one to criticize indulgent activities in this age of chaos. We are coming out of a pandemic and while it has been slow, it has been something to be hugely grateful for.

However, I do take issue with THE 100 DAY PROJECT! What in the name of love and truth is that????

These toddlers don’t make these projects. Do you think my toddler would still be home, eating broccoli and getting sent to bed at 8 if he could do projects?

He’d be living it up, scavenging for berries and smashing the patriarchy if he was that accomplished.

Parents make these projects. Parents are in charge of them and they take ownership of them. And the more time and energy I pour into my kid’s school projects, the more hissing I do when anyone gets near my labor of love. It’s just the possessive and controlling streak in me, I’ve been told by my ancestral conditioning.

So as I handed the 100 Days Of School poster to the teacher and fervently hoped she’d love it more than anyone else’s, I heard her say,

“How wonderful! This is very elaborate. What part did R have in it?”

I was a little dumbfounded but recovered quickly like most women who live with a permanent and unrelenting imposter syndrome.

“It was actually all his idea. He developed the concepts and helped with the execution. You could say he was the creative director of the project”.

That’s true! That little stinker did none of the heavy lifting.

“Was he? How precious!”

As I turned to leave, I saw a dad entering with a huge diorama of the hundredth day of school as envisioned and executed by him, directed by his toddler.

We exchanged looks of the deepest sympathy with each other. In a sea of people who don’t get me usually, this man got me in that moment. That’s something to celebrate this suffering for! It made a little human connection.

I nodded to him and sat in my car, finally able to savor whatever is left of the week.

This is the life, I thought, as I reclined the seat all the way back, my Starbucks the only lady I cared about, some mundane reality show with many housewives playing on my phone as I decided to enjoy the sheer bliss of solitude of my parked car in the school parking lot. This is the life! Project handed in, teacher happy with me! Who knew it took so little to feel so accomplished!


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