Honestly, if I knew how excruciatingly painful the junior year of high school would be for my kids I would re-think parenthood. I have no idea what to do or how to do it.
I am the villain, the wall, the One Who Must Be Avoided at All Costs. The One Who Ruins Mealtime by Casually Asking How’s School?
So, as I lay dying, although I’m pretty damn sure I won’t have any more answers about Junior Year of High School, at least I’ll be done with it.
However, if the Hospice staff is unwise and unfortunate enough to ask me if I have any “Unfinished Business” or “Regrets” that I need to sort out, I’m afraid they are in for a lengthy re-hashing of this agony.