School projects have a special place in hell, whether they originate in science, social studies, math, or history class. What the fuck ever class. ALL. OF. THEM. SUCK.
Because…pretty much…here’s what we always learn when it comes to these damn things:
My son Alex’s recent social studies project was no different than the science project he did earlier this year. That one was an epic fail as a science experiment, but highly successful at getting his dad to cuss pretty much through the entire thing. But this time, we didn’t have the same amount of notice as we did for the science fair.
I had seen one of the other baseball team moms post this amazing creation on Facebook on a Saturday, with this comment “Jacob worked very hard this morning on his Ancient Greek House for his school project. He did an awesome job!”:
So that afternoon at our baseball double header, I asked his mom what class it was for. She said all the kids in all the social studies classes were doing some sort of project. I called my son over between innings and asked “is your social studies project done yet?” His response was “Yes. I wrote my report.”
I prodded further “How ’bout the project part of it?” “Um…yeah, I’m going to ask dad to help me with it Sunday night. It’s not due until Tuesday morning.”
So you can pretty much understand why I felt like this:
So I put on a brave face:
I reminded him that his dad (who normally is in charge of this school project shit) was leaving on a business trip Sunday afternoon. I also brought to his attention that he had a double header of baseball Sunday afternoon, so just when
the fuck did he think this was going to get done?
“Oh,” was his immediate reply. Followed closely by “I gotta go, it’s my turn to bat.”
So after the game, the family grudgingly made the trip to Joann’s to buy modeling clay. That’s because my son revealed that he had agreed to do sculptures of Poseidon and Zeus — which might have well been the latest DisneyXD show as far as I was concerned. I’ve never been really well-versed in anything Greek, unless pouring copious amounts of Zima down my throat in college counts. Zima – sounds Greek, right?
To help out my son, I went to the internet and found these inspiration pictures of the Greek gods that he could base his models on:
But let’s face it. This is more like what I wanted to see:
Alex was totally inspired by the photos and got right to work on Saturday evening, making his sculptures. He was thrilled to turn off the Xbox and focus his creative energy on something other than spending Saturday evening in a video game induced haze.
It took him a solid three hours of intense work. But this was the final product:
He ended up getting 50 out of 50 points for the project.
συγχαρητήρια (congratulations in Greek), Alex. Perhaps I should celebrate with a few Zimas.