Did the groundhog see his shadow this Father's Day?

As classroom celebrations go, Father's Day is the Groundhog's Day of holidays. It tends to pop up at us out of nowhere, leaving one to wonder if we should have at least baked cupcakes to commemorate the event. Okay...you caught me. I actually DO have a Groundhog's Day cupcake recipe that I whip out every year. So, Father's Day ranks right BEHIND Groundhog's Day? This will not do AT ALL.

This year, I resolved to not hide behind the "June is a busy month" excuse and scoured all my available resources (Pinterest) to find the perfect Father's Day gift to take the place of last year's remote control candy container. FLASHBACK:  "Why are we buying 20 boxes of off-brand raspberry Jell-o," my husband had asked wearily as I'd loaded up our grocery cart the Thursday before Father's Day to harvest the perfect remote control-sized containers. I think maybe he was hoping that my plan was to load up a kiddie pool for some wrestling but, alas, that was not to be.

As you can see from the picture, Groundhog's Day turned out to be my inspiration. I have to admit though, after our lengthy photo session, that I have a good deal more respect for the furry little guy as using a shadow as the means to an end isn't as easy as it looks. We waited DAYS for the sun to emerge, sweating it out as we neared Father's Day week-end. I was contemplating bringing in Brad's deer-spotting light at one point. Getting fifteen 4th graders to wait patiently as I took pictures was also challenging. "Stop running...stop somersaulting...stop building a human-pyramid," I shouted after my You Can statement failed to work. "You can sit quietly on the sidewalk or lay back in the grass and enjoy the sun," I'd initially directed, even tossing in a patented choice option so they would feel as though they had some sense of control over their 9-year-old lives. Yeah...whatever. I had problems of my own so I chose to ignore when they began digging a hole to China behind me. "Flip the sign," I said patiently as I noticed the "Dad" shadow was reversed. "No, the long side," I said, trying again. "The OTHER long side," I muttered through gritted teeth, using Lamaze breathing before snapping the shot. I would repeat this conversation sixteen times, only it increased in decibels for each shot so that I was at full-shriek at the end. What a wonderful little memory the children will have regarding this year's quest to honor their fathers. Maybe the sign should have read "Help Me."