Party Time at School!

I used to think I had it pretty well altogether.

I like to plan.  I keep lists, a calendar, a schedule on paper and one online.

But there was this one time.  (My parents love to tell this story at my expense.)  They were visiting us in Kentucky.  Nathan was away with a team of students on spring break and I was hosting my parents.  Ellie had a spring performance of some type at her pre-school and we were going to sit on bleachers in a gym and watch the kids sing some songs and carry paper flowers, or something of that sort.

Ellie's class starts to march into the gym and my stomach sinks in horror.  Every single child in her class was dressed in a powder blue shirt.  Except Ellie.  She was wearing red.  Somehow I didn't get the memo. It didn't make it on the calendar.  My face and neck were the color of her shirt as my parents silently turned and looked at me.

Fast-forward six years and this time it's just my Dad visiting.  I go to pull out Reni's lunch bag from his back pack and a slip of paper falls on the floor.

"Ftese," it reads.  Invitation to an inauguration celebrating the opening of the new school.  All parents are invited to attend at 11:00. 

[Gulp]

That was like 3 hours away.  No time to worry about it.  We'll drop Reni off at class and come a little late after class.  

I take him into his class room and the teachers are all wearing heals and pantyhose, tying balloons and hanging decorations.  The little girls are in dresses and tights with pretty bows in their hair and Reni is wearing his 3rd best denim shorts and a grey sweatshirt with a moose-head on the front.

[Gulp again]  I do my best to explain that we'll be late, but that we're coming, silently stressing with unknown questions barraging me as I take in the scene.  Are we supposed to bring flowers for the teacher?  What does protocol require in this situation?

A few hours later we arrive to a packed parking lot and the sounds of clapping and children's singing. I've never been more grateful for school uniforms.

Reni is going to shoot me some day for posting these images.  He groans that he has to wear a 'dress' at school.

Below his non-conformist spirit is on full display during the singing of the Albanian national anthem.

Yes. I have to say it was the first pre-school program I've ever attended where the refreshments included adult beverages (below).  Just a cultural observation.

The food was incredible, thanks to the sister of the head teacher who runs the school (I'm pretty sure that sentence was full of mis-placed modifiers).  She has her own restaurant!  Sadly, it's not near our village!
There was byrek, shish-kabobs, boiled vegetables, salad, sausage, cheese, and assorted desserts!

The grown ups got the good stuff.  The kids ate sack lunches from home.

Here's Reni with his desk buddy.