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These are fightin’ words…

Second youngest daughter is that excited about tomorrow.  Her class is going to a local veteran’s cemetery.  You read that right…she is excited about going to a cemetery.  She actually asked me for camouflage pants, and my guess is she believes this will help create the mood necessary for one visiting a war memorial/veteran’s grave site.  Unfortunately, her camo’s are pink and grey, and they have a fancy belt that is attached.  Not sure if they would qualify as standard issues.  But she’s decided to wear em’ anyway.   Also not quite sure what to make of all this hoopla, but I guess I will take it for what it’s worth.  She is showing an interest in remembering the fallen ones who fought for freedom, democracy and justice for our country.  It doesn’t hurt things any that she gets to escape the confines of her regiment/ Grade 3 classroom while she’s at it.   Of course, I hope the tribute to the soldiers is why she is excited.  But realizing that she is only eight and she loves a distraction, I truly can’t say that the former is the real reason for sure.

Meanwhile, my son has been in bed all day with a war injury of his own.  He attended a party last night at a friend’s house and was knocked backwards down a slight hill only to land on his neck and back part of his head.  He spent the majority of the day in bed with a hot bean bag wrapped around his neck.   And he was as cranky as an old military sergeant.   Tomorrow morning will be telling as to just how bad this injury truly is.  Let’s just say that I might need a sub plan at the ready, as he said he would “let me know in the morning” how he was feeling.  I love spur-of-the-moment days off work.  Especially when I get to spend all those hours of quality time sitting in the local ER watching preschool children’s programming.

All this fighting, warring and thinking about field trips to cemeteries has got me feeling like I need to batten down the hatches and ready myself for a true fight against nature.  Hurricane Sandy is making its way up the coast, and Oldest has already asked me if it might possibly mean a day off school.  Not likely, but it is worth crossing one’s fingers and toes just in case.  There is always the slight possibility that a power pole might blow over and the Gard road loses electricity for the morning.  In which case, I will be sitting at home with four unbearably cranky kids with no computer or television to distract them.  On second thoughts, I hope Sandy gets sidetracked before she/he/it hits the Maritimes.

As it is now well past my bedtime, and I am fatigued from having waged wars over clothing, food, piano practicing, games, bedtimes and dirty laundry, not to mention false FARTS (you read that right),  I will hang up my holster for another day and head up to the barracks.  Here’s to another day tomorrow on the military base (a.k.a. Gard household).

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