Madlibs

Do you remember Madlibs? I do. I remember going to slumber parties and staying up all night in my friend's basements, listening to music and screaming with laughter at the silly stories that we would make up. Those were good times. As I sit here in my kitchen on a Friday night, I think back to all those birthday parties and the great fun we had with madlibs, and even now - decades later - I feel a swell of mirth bubbling up, and hear the echoes of laughter in my mind.

And veering off on a tangent...(trust me, this will make sense eventually)....

M and I are investigating schools for Monkey (and Jellybean too, eventually). The public school we are zoned for sucks. No other way to put it folks, it sucks. It is the kind of school that you only send your kids to because you have to. Because you have no other choice in life. And I'm not being an over-educated snob: even our superintendant, who is originally from Albania and may never have attended college for all I know, shudders at that school and managed to work the system (OK, cheat) to get his kids into a better school elsewhere.

We are looking at both public and private, but since public isn't an option until fall of 2011 when she turns 5, right now our focus is on private schools. (more about the insane admissions process later, I promise)

Private schools require the normal forms you'd expect, but most also require a statement/essay from the parent(s). One school asks how you would describe your child (skipping the physical attributes) to another person so that the child could be picked out of a crowd of kids.

It's a pretty cool question - asking you to identify the defining attributes of your child: what makes Monkey unique, what makes Monkey who she is....and it reminds me of Madlibs!

My daughter is _______, and can often be found holding_______in her hand while _____ about ____________ with _______________.

My daughter is insane about her books, and can often be found holding two or more library books in her hand while walking about the city with her parents.

OR

My daughter is exceptionally polite, and can often be found holding a full glass of apple juice in her hand while attending a birthday party and talking about robots with her best friend Caleb.

OR

My daughter is pigheaded stubborn, and can often be found holding her ABC blankie in her hand while grinding down her mother's resolve to not let her watch TV while asking about movies with no scary parts in them.

I could go on. Instead I'll go to bed.