All of you that have followed this site since its inception, since its very birth, please stand up. Yeah, you. Stand up. Okay, thanks. Now. I want the three of you to repeat after me: For this week, I will completely forget that Wordnerd promised us, way back in August or September, that this would NOT be a blog where we constantly had to read about her kids.

Thanks. You can sit now. Wait, where did everyone go? Dammit!

The rest of you, since you don’t know any better, guess what? One more day of it. I promise. Because graduation is tonight, and then he’s done. And I will then go and reacquaint myself with my other child, who I’m sure is calling 1-800-I-Need-A-Mom at this very moment.

But this is huge for us. And here’s why. I mentioned yesterday that he had a bad year in 6th grade. Academically, he was doing great. I mean really great.

Enter Sophie. Enter the bane of my existence that school year. Yes. She was. The. Girlfriend.

And everything that that entails. Oh, it was innocent as you would want it to be. It really was. They would talk online for hours. On the phone constantly. He went to her house for pizza and a movie. She came to ours to work on a school project. Cute as hell, actually. There was gossip of clandestine meetings for kisses (on the cheek, later, quickly on the lips) under the bleachers at the football game. But at school, well, it was a problem. Obviously, being a Catholic school, 6th grade relationships, however innocent they may be, were frowned upon. Add to this already complicated mix the fact that a couple of other boys liked the same girl. And were very clear in their intent to get her for their own. Mr. Cool, for the first time, had something they didn’t. And he fought for it. Not fought per se. But he was not going to let these boys win. So he’d slam his locker a little too loudly, so that everyone noticed the 8×10 picture of her that she had given him. He’d tell off the boys in the courtyard whenever they flirted with her. And he’d show off for her. He’d show her he was the funniest, coolest, more daring sixth grader EVER.

In addition to all of that, there were four teachers that should not be teachers. And he happened to get two of them in one school year. And the other two, despite his having left their grade years before, worked the play area and courtyard. Between those four and Mr. Cool’s need to prove himself, he amassed a few detentions and a bad reputation. They warned him. We warned him. They said he’d never amount to anything. (We, for the record, NEVER told him that.) He would, from time to time, try to explain a misunderstanding. They stopped listening. They stopped believing in him. (For the record, again, we didn’t.) Over the course of one school year, he managed to undo five years’ worth of good. And, over the course of one summer, he managed to grow out of it all.

And he never looked back.

Last night, at the awards presentation, he received awards and was designated a “graduate with honors.” Tonight, he’ll receive his diploma. Webster’s 9th Edition defines honor, in part, as “merited respect.”

Damn right.

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