Picture it...Prince Albert, 1990 (Can you hear Sophia Petrillo?)
It's 10pm and air is thick with tension.
The basement carpet of the new-ish home on Eagle Cres is covered in cellophane, fragments of cardboard refrigerator boxes, and bright pink paint - the wrong shade of pink - which has dripped from the paint bucket, over the protective cellophane, and on to the light gray carpet.
I am sobbing, desperately trying to blend the two shades of pink (that do not match!) onto the cardboard.
My mom is applying carpet spray and lightly dabbing the stain, attempting to remain calm but exhaling loudly with each dab.
My dad is recutting the cardboard with his exacto knife, while checking on the status of his carpet every 2-minutes and grunting with frustration.
I am whimpering, "It's not the right colour. I need to start over!"
This, my friends, was science fair project time in our home.
In retrospect, I should have a frank conversation with my mom and dad and question whether this led to the demise of their marriage? Haha. Joking. Sorta.
You guys, I had a love/hate relationship with the science fair.
I hated the process. I hated the planning, the experiments, the display. I hated attempting to raise the bar each year, surpassing last year's project. The pressure was immense. Pressure from whom, you ask. Me. The pressure from ME was immense. In fact, I developed an ulcer right around the year that the science fair began and it's definitely a contributing factor.
But I loved the positive reinforcement. The happiness that the A+ I inevitably received for these projects outweighed the tears, sleepless nights and ulcer-ridden stomach.
I loved watching the judges' eyebrows raise in surprise when they noted the effort and dedication that was devoted to this project. I always advanced to the city-wide science fair, and although I didn't win that one (for some reason, I was okay with that), I was gifted a special day off of school to hang with the other type-A stress ball nerds of Prince Albert.
I know that my parents disliked science fair season as well. They always jumped in, offering to help in any way that they could. They did their best. My dad may have overstepped a few times (like whittling an airplane wing from a two-by-four for my "lift" project). Although every year and project was slightly different with different challenges, the one constant remained...anguish and tears.
Fast forward to 2026.
I was asked to be a guest speaker at an event called "Cayfest," showcasing children's book authors on island. I was also asked to produce a booth showcasing my book.
My eyes lit up when I began picturing an extensive science fair display donned with colorful Katie the Caiman posters. I had matured extensively in 35+ years. This was my chance to overachieve in a calm and non-painful way, without harming the ones I love.
I rushed to the office supply store, as I know the materials sell out quickly during science fair season on island, and I found the magical tri-fold displays...in multiple colors! Selling for $12!
Can you believe this? In the 80's my parents were dumpster diving in the back of furniture stores trying to find these damn things and now one can purchase an already painted tri-fold display. It's not even fair.
I quickly found the perfect green for Katie and assisted a woman in finding a bright blue one.
"Book fair project at Prep?" the mom questioned. (Cayman Prep is a private school on island).
"Huh? Oh. No, this is for my own project," I laughed nervously.
"Oh," replied the mom. "I just assumed you were a Prep mom. We're all trying to buy these for our kids before they sell out."
"I'm sorry," I replied, "I remember how hard these projects were on my parents. I wish you the best of luck."
"We all know it'll just be me doing the project," she laughed.
I wanted to shake this woman and tell her how lucky she was that she didn't have to rummage through dumpsters and deal with drippy pain cans. But I held back, wished her the best, and carried on.
I began to build my display when Evan suggested I could make it even bigger and more impressive by refiguring three of the tri-fold cardboard displays.
YESSS! Bigger and better!
After collecting more tri-folds (sorry Prep moms!), I began planning my posters. We would need more printer ink and special paper for that.
In typical island fashion, every office supply store on island was sold out of my printer ink. I was placed on special lists with other desperate printer folk awaiting the coveted ink. I waited on bated breath for days until I received that call that my ink had cleared customs. Once I received my ink cartridges (max 2 per person, people!), I began printing up a storm, filling my extensive science fair project with bright, beautiful posters.
Feeling satisfied with the result, I messaged the organizer of Cayfest, ensuring that I had table space for my science fair project extraordinaire. She informed me that I had about 3-4 feet to work with.
My heart sank. I frantically got out a measuring tape and determined that my monstrosity was nearing on 6 feet.
I could feel that familiar science fair lump of despair form in my throat.
Why won't they just let me overachieve????
"No. You are 46 years old. You will not cry over another science fair project," I told myself sternly.
Ev entered the kitchen just as I was on the edge of, as the kids call it, "crashing out."
"I don't know why I care so much. No one else is going to care. This is ridiculous," I sighed as Ev gave me a tight squeeze.
I took a deep breath, tabled my thoughts, (scribbling and underlining "self-compassion" in my notepad for my next psych session), and proceeded to downgrade the science fair project into a manageable 3 feet.
This, my friends, is called "maturing." I've obviously reached peak adulthood. The daily meditation is paying off - perhaps not achieving zen status but remaining calm when core childhood memories attempt to derail my emotional stability is a step in the right direction.
In the end, Cayfest was really fun. I was the only author who created a science fair display, but that's fine. I officially achieved child entertainer status when I was asked to join Ms. Izzy on stage for a "Katie the Caiman" rendition of "Down by the Bay." For those of you who don't know who Ms. Izzy is, let's just say that I scored major street cred with the 2–6-year age bracket.
I donned a Britney Spears headset mic and moved across a stage, reading excerpts from Katie while demonstrating strategies for parents. The crowd was less than impressive in size, but they were interactive, attentive, and I had a lot of fun! Ev was in the front row, smiling encouragingly, Kris Jenner-style. I had visitors at my booth after the show and sold some books. Overall, it was a solid experience, despite the tri-fold disappointment.
Cheers to mending childhood trauma. Joking! Sorta.
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| It's adequate. Note the fold in the top center poster. That almost killed me. |
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| Actual footage of Evan |
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