The boys did such a great job running the game room at the launch party that I decided to play hookie with them on Wednesday. We had a great time at Islands of Adventure, but came back at 3 so I could get some of my work done.

Wednesday night, I discovered that my youngest son had barely even started on his term project. This is the project that we’ve been prompting him to do all month, that he’s been “working” on over and over again, and was due today (Friday).

Cue parental lecturing about the importance of taking responsibility and the dangers of procrastination…

Yesterday, he worked on it from the time he got home until deep into the night, while his mom and/or I hovered nearby, making sure that he was, in fact, working. By the time he staggered into bed, he could barely keep his eyes open.

This morning, I found him sprawled on the couch, still in his pajamas. “Hey kiddo,” I said.

“Uck.”

“Time to get dressed,” I said. “We’ve got to get going.”

“So tired.”

“Come over here,” I said. “Come on.”

He pushed himself up from the couch. “I don’t need to talk,” he said. “I already learned my life lesson last night. I’m good.”

I handed him his presentation. He’d left it on the printer, and I had put it in a binder for him.

“Oh.” He yawned. “Thanks.”