Following his mum’s footsteps, the offspring makes a landing into the world of deadlines
It was late at night and all through the house, nothing stirred, not even a mouse. The offspring was hard at work, cutting, sticking, drawing and writing. If anything, the offspring’s approach to school projects has convinced me that he works best under the pressure of impending deadlines—an ability he has indeed drawn from me. He needs, like me, the rush of adrenaline pumping through the system to get cracking.
It began a few weeks ago. Nestled among the stash of stray sheets in his school bag came the neatly stapled set of papers which every term would put the fear of god into my heart. This fear would turn me to drink if I didn’t have deep calming breaths. To not turn to the first option of reaching out with a shaking hand for the spirit that cheers is always an uphill climb. Project Guidelines, says this bunch of stapled sheets, rather innocuously on its cover sheet. Contained within are the guidelines and deadlines that tell us what needs to be done and submitted for the projects for every subject.
I skim read through them nervously while an anxious eye made mental notes of all that had to be collected. Pictures. Information. Material that would necessitate a visit to the stationery store. In my super-efficient, cape on supermom mode, I quickly made a list of the materials required for each project, the submission deadlines for each, in my diary and resolved to collate them all well in time so that the offspring could work on each project in a leisurely manner. Did you just snort in derisive laughter?
I should have known better, you say? Well, I should have, but what is that about hope rising eternal in the maternal breast, etc, and all that holds the universe together being love, hope and duct tape. Yes, I got the duct tape too. And the chart papers. And the thermocol. And the satin ribbons. And the decals. And the blank sheets. And the scrap books. And the brown paper to cover the scrap books.
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