Maybe I'm an uneducated mama on this front, but this is the first summer The Rabbit has homework. Which of course means I have homework. Forgive me, but didn't summer used to mean orange yogurt pop-ups dripping down your arm, sun burns, and riding your bicycle with your friends and trying not to hear mom call you in for dinner? Didn't it mean hours at the beach ferreting sand crabs, itching mosquito bites and sleepovers with chocolate pop-overs for breakfast? The Rabbit's assignment this summer is a "fun activity" to run a scavenger hunt through the city, collect 13 "artifacts" (a subway map, local newspaper, etc...) and then write 5 stories about them. She's 6. This is absolutely meant without the slightest disrespect for any of her teachers (who, to date, I have adored)....but this is truly inane, some administrative Grinch-move that comes from focusing excessively on test results. To me, summer is meant as a time to unwind. To not ha
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