At 9:30 PM on a Sunday, a quiet panic descends upon the household hallway when the innocent question is suddenly asked: “Hey, do we have any poster board and hot glue?” Suddenly, a kitchen table covered in dinner plates is transformed into a high-stress production studio for a diorama of the solar system, fueled entirely by caffeine, panic, and sheer resentment toward the school curriculum. You find yourself cutting out Jupiter from an old cardboard box using kitchen shears while your teenager stands over your shoulder explaining that the project was actually assigned three weeks ago.
