Back in high school I remember “spring break” as a nice little break from the daily grind of school. My kids seem to think it means a week off from anything they would rather not do.
“Time for bed” I announce at 11:00 p.m.
I get looks of disbelief and horror.
“But it’s spring break!” they plead and then the negotiations begin. “At least let us stay up until the pizza gets here.” (I mean they do have an argument that they are not tired; they’ve only been up 8 hours.)
Chores, brushing teeth, prayers, obedience, responsibility, whatever. I don’t know where they learned this but I fancy myself somewhat open-minded. Maybe they were on to something. Kara asked me to take out the trash and I feigned surprise and said, “On spring break?”
Yeah. It didn’t work out so well. I would not recommend it.
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