On Sunday night I received an email from Caroline’s science teacher informing us that they would be beginning a study of geology in her class and that a mini-model of the earth’s layers would be due by Friday. She specified it shouldn’t be bigger than a shoebox and that we couldn’t make it out of clay, styrofoam or food, otherwise known as all the ways you can find to make a mini-model of the earth when you search for it on Pinterest.
So I did what most mothers would do and poured myself a glass of wine.
I tried to feign enthusiasm over the whole thing and be like Esqueleto from Nacho Libre and say, “I don’t know why you always have to be judging me because I only believe in science.” Then I consulted Twitter to ask for ideas on how to build a model of the earth’s layers using nothing but duct tape and old fashioned ingenuity. People mentioned papier mache’ and origami and egg cartons and this is why I love the internet because the people of Twitter clearly believe I am a better person than what I actually am because papier mache’.
And so after school today, Caroline and I went to Target to look for various materials that might comprise a totally recyclable model of the earth’s layers and then we worked on it for an amount of time that caused me to put my head between my knees before I blacked out. Which is why I am currently rewarding myself with a few Oreos and watching Rocky III with P. Because I pity the other fools who are also helping their children make models of the earth’s layers. Also, because P is in charge of the remote control right now.
But he did watch the season finale of Downton Abbey with me earlier this week which, for him, ranks somewhere between gum surgery and the ballet. I personally adored the entire episode, but he mentioned the next day that he found the whole thing depressing and I told him I found that surprising because I thought it was a very upbeat episode. He said, “What part of that was upbeat? The servants who get to celebrate Christmas by getting to come upstairs and have a drink with the rich people? Maybe they want to be home with their families instead of listening to Lady What’s-Her-Face sing Christmas Carols.”
Yes. Maybe so.
In other news, it looks like our chances of snow and/or wintry mix are decreasing by the moment. Caroline did go to sleep with her pajamas inside out but I hated to tell her that the only way she was going to wake up to snow in the morning is if she catches a flight to Colorado. But Friday is our last day of school before Spring Break so I don’t feel too bad for her, especially considering how many days of school she’s already missed in the last six weeks due to various viruses and fevers.
Although it would be fun to build a snowman like Elsa and Anna, I’m really just ready for some sunshine. I can’t remember the last sunny day and our backyard has turned into a giant pit of mud. There is mud everywhere and I feel certain my floors will never be clean again, nor will the floorboards in my car. It’s just all mud, all the time.
Which I guess might have counted as a recyclable layer in our model of the earth’s layers, but it’s too late now.