Hello Ms. Pagoda,
It was nice seeing you the other day outside your classroom. Thanks for droppping the charges against my son Andrew. After all 4th grade boys will be 4th grade boys.
Before I forget, thanks for helping me part with that extra 20 bucks left over after all the bills were paid. Styrofoam balls, poster paint, glitter star stickers and industrial strength poster board were just what I wanted to spend it on. Also, you must've telepathically known that I had nothing to do this past weekend and was looking forward to tackling long-put-off household projects. Those were gladly put on hold for Andrew's solar system model project.
As a mom I pride myself on fostering my children's independence, encouraging them to do things for themselves and not taking over their school projects. Because of this, I stood by, hovering over Andrew's painstaking task of typing and printing facts about each of the planets, including Pluto. He spent over an hour hunting, pecking and juggling fonts to get those facts just right. I could've completed the task in 15 seconds, but vowed not to interfere. I can't tell you what an excrutiating act of self control it was not to shove him out of the way and say "OH FORGODSAKE, JUST LET ME DO IT!!!!"
After he used up every drop of magenta toner in the printing process, Andrew spent another half hour cutting and gluing each fact onto his poster. Thanks to his fastidiousness, I now have more Elmer's glue between the tiles of my kitchen floor than grout. Everyone in the family has glue stuck to the bottoms of their shoes, tracking it here and there across Laurens County. That all happened yesterday.
It's now Monday evening. I'm all solar systemed out, and have threatened EVERYONE not to mention anything even remotely celestial. However, just a few minutes ago Andrew announces "Miss Pagoda said that our planet facts have to be handwritten."
"Stop fooling around, son. That's not funny."
"No! I'm serious! She said it. She really did!"
"Son, I'm warning you!" I say, gazing at the printed facts, secured to his poster with enough glue to have plugged up the defunct BP oil well.
"No, Honest. Call Tyler. He'll tell you!"
"No, I will NOT call Tyler. Instead I'll dash off a strongly worded, over the top email to Ms. Pagoda."
This solar system project has taken approximately 13 years off my life, the same number of moons as Neptune. I have 800 new gray hairs, the same number as the high temperature on Mercury. Oh, and I also have a great red spot, right between my eyes, a stress zit that popped up just yesterday while watching Andrew paint the Great Red Spot on Jupiter, the kitchen wall and our cat Anakin's tail.
I've scoured your handouts and nowhere does it say that those facts have to be hand written. Was that a sudden whim you had today just to mess with us? The calendar say's it isn't April 1st. I checked.
Let me just say that I will NOT allow Andrew to rip the facts off his poster, redo them in his erratic, Parkinsons-esque handwriting and waste another gallon of glue reapplying them. Sorry, no. can. do!!!
Go ahead. Deduct points from his final grade. I double dog dare you. If you do, you can bet your asteroid belt that Saturn will never travel so fast. My Saturn VUE, traveling to your school, that is.
Have a pleasant day.
PS. Andrew's thoroughly enjoying your class and says you're his favorite teacher this year.