on President’s day.

So “Bruce” and I are having this conversation.

I say, “President’s Day?”

And he says, “Yeah, President’s Day.”

I say, “Don’t you mean Honest Abe Lincoln’s Birthday where you cut out silhouettes of his face and make log cabins with pretzels and read stories about walking 5 miles to return a book and about abolishing slavery?”

And he says, “No. President’s Day.”

And I say, “Don’t you mean His Excellency, President George Washington’s birthday where you cut out silhouettes of his face and make cherry tarts and read stories about chopping down trees and telling the truth and about crossing the Deleware with his freezing soldiers?”

And he says, “No. President’s Day.”

And I say, “Who’s birthday is that?”

And he grins and says, “Who cares? We get a day off of school.”

And my brain says….tick-tick-tick—–

KABOOM!

It’s a good thing he was kidding.

Switching a 17-year-old to home school could really put a chink in his chain.

Note: The characters in this story are real. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.