I thought, "Well, since I don't have to teach tomorrow, maybe I'll read a little Proust." (I really do need to read Proust.) Now, two hours later, I am still trying to fill out those beginning of the year forms. "Which package for school pictures? And if I get package B with the $5 sibling discount, how much is the check for?"
I am reading I Don't Know How She Does It on my Kindle. it's very very funny and so close to home that it's almost unbearable.
I hope that my madeleine for these years is a madeleine and not the sight of a reminder stapled to the front of the homework folder: "Pumpkin patch form and $ DUE MONDAY! : )"
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Oh, do not doubt that your madeleine WILL be the form stapled to the front of the homework! And all of the twinges about all of the things you could've done better make their mark and become part of you, part of your children, and history, and memory, until it doesn't matter any more. And then you will have become that wizened old creature, the college student parent.
As they say nowadays, it gets better. ( :
Thanks, Tricia! It's very funny, all this paperwork of childhood.
Not to mention that Proust has had to wait for the paperwork of childhood! The The mention of him makes me want to read a little Proust as well, however I am (supposed to be) writing. So Proust must wait also for my adult attempt of a literary masterpiece.
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