Let Me Tell You a Little Something About Spirit

Today is College Spirit Day at my stepson's school. And while most of the little homos will likely be running around wearing Kansas, Kansas State or Missouri apparel, my almost-nine-year-old will be in his Juice Williams jersey.

Of course, we all know that this has nothing to do with the children; rather it's about the kids' parents and their college affiliations. It's kind of like the mock elections held at elementary schools across the country every four years as a U.S. Presidential election nears. "The kids choose Obama!" Like they've studied the fucking issues. It's much more of a measure of how their parents have rubbed off on them. Likewise, try asking Dominic what he thinks about Ron Zook coming back next year to lead to 2010 Illini. And does he think Jacob Charest should be the starting QB heading into next year? He's likely to respond to those questions with the same kind of reaction I get when trying to help explain his homework. Perhaps like all third-graders, he doesn't care what the right answers are, and he doesn't give a shit how we've gotten to them.

But I do have to wonder if there are any teachers at Horizon Elementary who spot that orange #7 jersey today and think, "Shit, that kid's dad is having a rough season." Surely I'm not the only person who thinks that way. I just can't believe how passive some people are about sports, especially with college affiliations. My father-in-law, for example, can't understand why I get so freaking pissed when he sends me texts after Iowa Hawkeyes victories, updating me on their record and including an obligatory "Go Hawks!" Luckily, I haven't had to see one of those gut-wrenching messages in a few weeks. For the same reason he sends those messages, he should easily understand why I fucking loathe receiving them: Because I don't want his god damn school to win!

That's what spirit is about, having your kids wear your school colors and looking at people who wear your enemy's colors and telling them to go fuck themselves (although it's usually unspoken). No smiles and wishes of good luck. I wish ill will upon my enemies.

And, by the way, Dominic had absolutely no say in what he wore to school today.

Back to School Sucks

This is it for Dominic. Today's essentially the last day of summer freedom for my eight-year-old stepson, with the first day of school looming Monday. Yes, he still has the whole weekend, but we always have that (in theory). The last weekday of summer can be a bitter pill.

There's a lot you can tell a kid when it comes to the start of a new school year, but it's nothing that anyone wants to hear. Why? Because it's the same shit we adults heard when we were kids.

"When you're grown up, there is no summer break."

"One day, when you're done going to school, you'll look back and think of how much easier life was then."

There are many other versions, none of which do I care to hear or speak again. Then you also have a couple of inevitable questions intended to sugar-coat the situation, as if there aren't holes in each of those efforts too.

"You'll get to spend more time with your friends." Really? 90% of that time will be spent crammed into an uncomfortable desk while someone else is spouting seemingly useless information at us. Plus, if I really thought so highly of these friends, wouldn't I have made more of an effort to hang with them outside of school?

"Aren't you excited to see who's in your class?" Great. That curiosity will be satisfied within the first 20 seconds of the school year. I guess once you're in middle school and high school it'll take a whole day. What about the next nine months?

Face it, it's really not easy to find silver lining when your world gets flipped in such a way. Sure, there probably are some circumstances in which heading back to school doesn't seem too bad. Maybe a kid spent the whole summer at a shitty camp. Maybe he was shipped out of town to spend time with undesirable family members. When kids get older, sometimes work gets thrown into the mix to jack up the summer.

But none of that is the case with the one that my family is sending back to school. He hit Worlds of Fun a couple of times, spent a good deal of time with his dad and cousins, and he attended a tennis camp that he requested and enjoyed. How could it possibly be seen as a positive to start shaking off the morning dew just in time to hop on a nasty old school bus with a driver who barely speaks English accompanied by primarily undesirable kids?

(It should be noted, however, that getting up early isn't an issue for Dominic since he was up by around 7:00 everyday this summer anyway. Likewise with the Latino bus driver, seeing as Dominic speaks Spanish nearly fluently. So the only true problem of those mentioned above is with the unruly kids, two of whom have needed to be reprimanded for their verbal and/or physical abuse of my innocent stepson.)

So third grade awaits. After making his way through all of the annoying parents mingling outside the school on Monday, I'd guess there will be a little excitement for Dominic to see some of the faces that had been missing since early June. It's not quite like later in life when scoping the female talent in your classes carries quite the intrigue, but maybe it's not too early. I think there's talk of girlfiends and boyfriends by this time. I remember having a great sense of pride in fourth grade, during which all but one of the girls in my class asked me to be their boyfriend. Pretty good shit for someone who'd had only just arrived in this town about a year earlier. (For the record, I said no to all of them. It's good to be selfish for a while. Just beware of potential backlash sometimes. You never know when you might be accused of being gay. Seriously.)

Godspeed, young man.