“What’s tomorrow, Mom?” Fritz asked me yesterday.

“Martin Luther King Junior Day.”

“Oh, so that means nobody has school!”

“You have school.”

“But it’s a federal holiday!” he complained.

“Your dad has to work, so you have school.” Life is unfair.

Yesterday, Bill drove to a remote location to help man a backup-to-the-backup operation center in the event that catastrophe strikes the DC metro area on Tuesday. Terrorists could bomb the area, but have no fear, the National Guard stands ready and waiting. At least he’s not one of the thousands of Guardsmen who will be standing on street corners politely pointing out the line for the few Porta-Potties.

I had really wanted to take the older kids to the Inauguration. Bill went four years ago, and this was my turn, by golly. But over the last few months, as the restrictions became public and as the predictions for the crowd size grew, my interest quickly became tepid. Even if Bill did not have to work, the clincher would have been the kids’ piano teacher, a young, black woman, saying she was going to stay home and watch it on TV. Well, if she thought the best place to view history-in-the-making was from the warm comfort of her own living room, who was I to drag three kids through freezing temperatures, snow flurries, and crowded streets?

So, even though the area schools are closed today and tomorrow (and, for some reason, next Monday and Tuesday as well), my students will be complaining hard at work. And, through the magic of television, we will take a field trip tomorrow to the Nation’s Capitol to see the world’s finest example of freedom and democracy: the peaceful installation of a new American President.