It's the phrase that makes 7th grade boys groan and 7th grade girls get all verklempt.
It is a day of training in proper meal manners, followed by a dance lesson.
The rules of the Etiquette Luncheon:
1. Your conduct grade must be a B average for the year in order to participate. I know, this sounds counterintuitive. The kids who can't behave and need some etiquette lessons aren't allowed to go? This is seen as a privilege, and the kids who have shown they can't conduct themselves in a mannerly way don't get the privilege. There's always one or a few or a handful.
2. Each boy will be paired with a girl, usually based on height. The teachers pay close attention leading up to the luncheon to see which boys are "dating" (going with, for you who grew up in the 80s) which girls. "Couples" are not put together. (Don't get me started on the whole 13 year olds dating. That's a rant for another day.)
3. Girl's attire must be approved prior to the luncheon. And this is why the girls are all a-twitter. They actually get to prettify themselves, donning fancy frocks, shiny shoes, and darling 'dos. However, each girl must bring her dress to school sometime before the day of the luncheon to be approved by the teachers. They don't want the fun day to be tarnished by a phone call home for new clothes if a girl wears an inappropriate dress. (Don't get me started on parents not reading and making their children follow the dress code.)
4. Fried chicken must be served. I have no idea how or why this got started, but each year the luncheon is catered by the PE teacher (who has a catering business on the side (don't get me started on teachers needing a second job in order to pay bills)), and each year the 7th grade teachers choose to have fried chicken. The greasiest, messiest food possible.
So, today was the day for Buttercup.
We got up nice and early in order to do her hair.
Speaking of, I have a new phrase for you:
If you only have sons, you don't really need to know this. Unless, of course, your sons are old enough to date and you want to sound cool and fashionable. You could throw out a, "Have you tried a waterfall braid? I think your hair would look lovely like that."
I had never heard of it until yesterday, when Buttercup asked me to do it to her hair. She gave me the instructions, "You get a chunk of hair, split it in two, then French braid it, but when you get the new chunk of hair, just put it through, don't actually braid it."
Oh, sure. No problem. (I hope my sarcasm is shining through on this one.)
After a few detailed questions, I tried it out for the first time this morning.
Daughter was happy.
And because one happy child isn't enough, it is also the day 5th grade goes to CYO camp. They leave tonight for the adventure of a
And because it isn't enough to have only two happy kids, today is also Turken's last day of school. At 12:01, he will officially be a kindergartener.
But really, no one is more happy about the end of school than this person*:
What? I don't have to be out of the house with two dressed and fed slow-as-molasses little boys at 8:30 three days a week anymore? And I don't have to be BACK to pick him up three hours later? You mean I'll actually have a stretch of hours each day that I don't have to be anywhere?
It is a day to celebrate, my friends.
*I really am happy, despite what this photo says. I was mid-instruction (with a combination smile/talk) on how to use a very expensive digital camera with a five year old who thought he had it DOWN. So close little man.
On that note, anyone know of a good anti-wrinkle cream? How about under-eye suitcase remover? Maybe a one-sided jowel slimmer?
Time to hit the road, Jack.
Have a lovely day!