Graduation . . .

I think my blog should be titled "what's in your mouth, give it back". I swear I must say that at least a hundred times a day. Wookie has eaten shoes, her blankets, earplugs, and started to nibble on my record collection. I have to extract things that shouldn't have to be extracted from the jowls of this dog. Ya, the slobbery Lab part of the mix is really coming out. She has developed a taste for Kleenex. There was also a battle between the pug and Wookie in relation to kibble. The pug won, Wookie lay defeated by the washing machine. Stella chewed nuggets triumphantly out of the side of her mouth. We went to the dish washing fiesta at the Arena yesterday. . . it's for graduation fundraising for my soon to be Grade 8 daughter. It was enjoyable. The other night it was flipping wieners for a hot dog fundraiser. I grilled. It's been a long time, since we still haven't replaced our BBQ. I am curious as to how other schools treat graduation. We have to fund raise approximately $9000.00 to send our kids to camp, have graduation dinner, flowers, D.J., hall . . . Now, don't get me wrong, I am not one of those parents who begrudge graduation fun, but I remember that our school had a great primary school graduation. We used our sweaty gym, for a huge dance, Kate Young from CFPL London News M.C. 'd it, and we wiggled around to Alphaville and other bands. Some were wallflowers, some slow danced in circles. Lots of teenage angst and overactive hormones. There were actually (if I remember correctly), chaperones who, if we danced too close, separated the junction. I didn't have to wear my MONOBLOCK. My dad drove me in the MG. It was simple, and it was great.