Worst Holiday EVAR: Science Fair Eve.

Harry Shearer's syndicated weekly radio show, Le Show, features an "apologies of the week" segment where he highlights the public apologies from large corporations, celebrities, politicians, etc.

Today I'm here to provide my own personal apology of the week.

I'm sorry, people, for every bitchy thing I did today. But you just don't understand what's going on: It's Science Fair Eve.

For those who have yet to shat forth the next generation of would-be hard-core procrastinators, let me tell you how it goes:

1) You receive a notice that the SCIENCE FAIR will be happening. You will receive this notice in January--at least you should have received this notice in January, but for some odd reason you will only find it when you are cleaning out the lint trap in the dryer. At this exact moment your spawn will waltz through the door after school with the infamous stress-inducing trifold poster board.

2)Your upper lip will start to sweat when you notice that the trifold poster board is completely naked.

3) You will begin mumbling in tongues like a well-traveled sailor when you are told that the completed tri-fold poster board, along with experiment and conclusion are due.....tomorrow.

When we sign up to take on the responsibilities of ensuring the survival of offspring, we don't typically think of the damaging effects Science Fair Eve has on the psyche. When you find out you're pregnant, you don't ever stroke your belly and hum, "I can't wait until I'm huffing rubber cement at 1:30 a.m. whilst sticking jellybeans on cardboard."

But you must. It is a right of passage. Only once you have undergone the wild ordeal of paper maché-ing a a giant pair of sunglasses that look more like a uterus will you understand the panicked horror of Science Fair Eve.

But FEAR NOT, friends. I'm not here to gripe incessantly. I'm here to offer hope. I will offer you three last-minute projects your kids can use.

The flower--nature's dial-it-in project. Google flower anatomy. Print, cut, and paste information on trifold. Buy a flower at the store (science fairs typically occur when everything in nature doesn't really give a shit about being all sciencey and most vegetation is dormant--at least in our neck of the woods. This furthers my theory that schools conspire to rid you of your will to live. They are also probably in cahoots with the wine dealers). Done.
Poster board title: "Flowers are pretty, but not as pretty as my mother."

Living death--whatchagot project. Clean out your refrigerator. Give you child that tupperware from the back of the fridge--the one with the leftovers that are older than your first born. (NOTE: When you give the plastic death bomb to your child, get a little misty and with a shuddery voice say, "I've been saving this for you since you were born." They will have no choice but to use it. ALSO, when science fair is over, said child can throw it away at the school and NOT in your home. Win/win.) Poster board title: You can go with either "Mold vs. Plastic" or "The effects of parental academic negligence." Your choice.

Foot funk--why the hell do little boys' feet smell so bad? No, seriously, I want to know. It's messed up. For this one you can google sebaceous glands or something like that. Staple a few of the socks you found between the couch cushions to the poster board (if too tough, you may want to use nails or spritz them with water and they'll adhere themselves. Google foot odor. Bleach all areas surrounding science fair project.
Poster board title: "My mom didn't even try this year."

Other science fair options are "how foot rubs keep me from getting grounded" or "Lightbulbs: It's Called Magic" or "Pie and it's effect on the mood."

The final option comes complete with poster board visual! Yes, this was the OMG-I-can't-believe-it's-Science-Fair-Eve scientific discovery this year. I spent an hour figuring out how to draw lattice in a word. I smell like rubber cement. My eyes want to bleed now.

But somewhere in the torrent of hormonal hysteria, mostly mine, I think we had a good time. My face is so happy it's dancing....or twitching depending on your Science Fair Eve knowledge base.