The last day of 3rd grade sucks.
It may as well be the end of the world, it sucks on the suck-o-matic scale of suckiness so bad.
And no, I'm not being melodramatic. You don't know! You're not here!
The days of single-digit birthdays...GONE!
The days of holding out on sleepovers precisely because of the single-digit age...GONE!
The days of holding hostage all-day, multi-kid play dates because they were just to young to be trusted in large groups, and too young meant until you're in 4th grade...GONE!
The days of school field trips if and only if one of their parents could tag along and photodocument the entire escapade for the eternal baby books...GONE!
The days of succumbing to my fashion desires because it would make a much better picture than a tank top and sports shorts...GONE!
The days of deciding for them what summer camps, extra-curricular activities, student council activities, talent show entries, and book reports they should do because, of course, I always know what's best, which also happened to be what they really really really want but didn't know they wanted...GONE!
The days of allowing your parents to influence your choice of buddies, which is almost always based on your parents' ability to even remotely tolerate their parents...GONE!
And, based on our recent viewing of "We Bought A Zoo," the days of not being so grossed out by two people kissing that you squirm yourself into a frenzied fit of giggles...
Well...luckily...I still have that one, dammit.