My oldest son graduates from 8th grade this evening. It's the first graduation of one of my children, unless you count the very cute kindergarten graduations which involved little children wearing paper hats and parents taking LOTS of pictures.
I'm not really a weeper, but I do wonder if I'll get teary-eyed when they read his full three names. Somehow that seems so significant, that public reading of the name on the birth certificate, that it might be the thing that gets me.
In the meantime, our graduate-to-be and his father have taken the car and gone to a movie, so I went to pick up my younger son at school holding an umbrella (it looked like rain) and a beagle attached to a leash.
Naturally, the rain came before my son even came out of school, and it was one of those rains that sprays right under the umbrella, rendering it useless. So we walked into the onslaught, my son enjoying the novelty of being soaked, the dog and I not enjoying it at all. Graham had emerged with a returned project--a pizza box decorated for a state of the union, and we didn't want it to get wet, so the pizza box got most of the benefit of the umbrella.
I wish I had taken a picture of my dog when we got home. There never was such a sad, sorry creature. :)
I will indulge in at least one full minute of making my dry family members feel guilty.