That’s what I’ll call the most beautiful week in the whole school year. Let me tell you, reader, if you didn’t know: eight straight weeks of school is a lot. It’s a lot of everything. A lot of tests and quizzes and studying and reading and writing and waking up and walking in the rain and going to the library and babysitting and going over notes and hand cramps and going to bed early and math problems you don’t understand and a heavy backpack and notecards and highlighters…it’s a lot. And so, as you are probably concluding, I was burnt out, and I wasn’t the only one. We were all on edge, getting snappy with each other when it wasn’t necessary, getting irritated when it should have rolled off of our backs, becoming more and more exhausted as we slept less and spent more time dealing with things like halogens and venn diagrams. And then, like a ray of sunshine, spring break shined into our lives with promises to be easygoing and stress free and fun. And we were up for it. In fact we said, “FUN? Why, I haven’t seen you in awhile. SLEEP? yes, come on in, thank you, nice to see you again. HANGING OUT WITH NO OBLIGATIONS? Sign me up, sure, I’d love to.” So that’s how it happened.
I went home the first weekend, and then I headed to Lake Martin. When I arrived, a bunch of rested kids were making pancakes at one in the afternoon. That, my friends, is when I knew it was going to be an incredible week. (I was hungry.) I stayed the whole week, and our days went something like this: Sleep until 11. Eat muffins. Play scattergories. Watch a movie. Nap. Read a book. Eat tacos. Play Risk. Eat brownies. Have a dance party. Go to bed really late. Sleep.*
Obviously, there were variations. I mean, some days we ate cinnamon rolls instead of muffins. And sometimes we slept until noon. We played Wackee Six a lot instead of scattergories. We didn’t always eat tacos. We did this night, though.
And I wasn’t lying about the Wackee Six bit, either. Or the dance party.