The Mousse'd Horror of Administrative Day

Besides requisite smoking and drinking, school "Administrative Days" are for installing new tennis balls. 

Da-da lives in fear of the words, "Administrative Day," the day teachers and "administrators" (whatever they do) take the day off at Da-da's expense to smoke hashish, drink Blind Dog bourbon and play nude Jell-O Twister all day, while parents have to shoulder the burden of not only having to raise their own children, but endure all of them suddenly coincident in space-time under one quantum roof. Isn't this why we abolished summer and installed fall and winter and school in general? Isn't it the responsibility OF TOTAL STRANGERS and pharmaceutical companies to lord over my pediatric mental ward? Shouldn't the State be in charge or turning these scale models of atomic explosions into full-size atomic explosions with either political or patriotic or customer service aspirations? And why must Da-da ask all these rhetorically obvious questions all the time?

In European countries, children are taught useful skills on "administrative days." Important things like foot massage and how to make awesome chocolate mousse. (Hint: layer small dessert containers with slightly milk-moistened Grape Nuts -- seriously -- chill for an hour, then lay in the chocolate mousse and chill again for a few hours. That way, you not only get chocolate mousse -- which you so desperately need -- you also get all the vitamins and minerals that you're missing from eating cheeseburgers all the time, not that there's anything wrong with that. What was the question again, Mr. Speaker?)

Oh, screw it. Da-da's got to get Bronko and Nagurski's chocolate mousse lesson ready after they stop rubbing Da-da's feet.

Da-da's got your Administrative Day RIGHT HERE, Leon.

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