For the last 180 days, Malcolm informed us, he has been working very hard.  At school.  Certainly not at home.

We agreed that yesterday, when school ended in the late morning, he could have his buddies over to blow off some steam.  An impromtu backyard bacchanal was planned.

It began with a lunch of pizza, fruit salad, and Coke.  Two out of the three menu items were a big hit.

Then it was on to video games, until I found enough pairs of extra shorts that could serve as bathing suits, and shooed them out to the pool – where they had to wait a few minutes for it to open.

Swimming completed and more giant jolts of sugar consumed at the pool snack bar, they rampaged home for a little BB gun action, which involved shooting at the box of paper recycling.

Whoever “killed” the creature on the magazine was the winner.  Much hilarity ensued.

I lost track of the dirty jokes and double entendres.  Let’s just say I felt like I was at a convention of gastroenterologists, minus the Latin vocabulary.

Every kid in the photo below is the youngest boy in an all-boy family.  Need I say more?

Malcolm had to pose for a photo as a Southern sheriff.

 

After a bonfire was built and the boys roasted hot dogs to go with the macaroni and cheese Chris had hand-crafted, it was time to say goodbye to 6th grade homework.  It was also time to say goodbye to Chris, who conveniently had to leave for a meeting at church.  Fortunately, Ian – a lifeguard – was here with me, should any first aid be required.  Because I am not good in the cuts and burns department.

 

Sixth grade papers, folders and notebooks make excellent fuel for the fire, but I had to put the kibosh on burning half a pair of scissors, a handful of crayons, and a huge stack of binders.

When the boys started drinking cans of seltzer from holes punched in the side, lighting torches, holding them aloft and singing “I Am Woman” in loud falsettos, it was time for Mommy to pour a glass of wine, shoo everyone away from the fire, and call the other parents to come pick up their sons.

As parties goes, this one pretty much ran itself.  Bathing suits, BB guns, and bonfires.  I give it a B plus.

Middle school teachers, I have felt just a tiny portion of your pain.  Enjoy your summer! 

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