My 8-year-old son Tyler is enrolled in a year-round school, and he'll be in session through the end of June.

Cue the happy dance.

That makes me sound horrible, I know. I love having him home, but a 12-week break in the summer would be hard to take. It's tough enough to navigate my son's three-week breaks, often referred to as "track-outs."

If you're unfamiliar with year-round schools, kids go to school for nine weeks a session with four three-week breaks during the year instead of one 12-week summer break. (Kudos to those parents who manage 12 weeks.)

During our recent three-week track-out, Tyler and some buddies built a caterpillar habitat out of bricks in the front yard that bore a striking resemblance to a grave, headstone and all. I'm still waiting for the call from the Homeowners Association.

Next was the water balloon war in which I had to intervene when I saw one kid chasing another with a plastic baseball bat. And then there was never any shortage of shouts for Band-Aids or popsicles, which usually occurred I was on the phone with a client.

On the day we went to play putt-putt golf Tyler nearly impaled himself on a strategically-placed palm frond and later complained that his ice cream wasn't cold enough.

That was week one.

On the way home, he wanted to listen to "Hey, Soul Sister" by Train, a song that I like. But I didn't have the thingy that attaches the iPod to the car so we listened to one of my mix CDs. Tyler liked Paul Simon's song "Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover."

Fortunately, I didn't have to explain what the song was about, but Tyler did keep asking me to replay it. And after it played again and again, I thought we might rename it "Fifty Ways to Irritate Your Mother."

I rewrote the lyrics to make it my new track-out theme song. Feel free to use it for the long summer break.

Here's the chorus:

Don'tcha dare talk smack, Jack

Get off the can, man

Pick up your toy, boy

Just listen to me!

Cut out the fuss, Gus

You don't need to discuss much

Just lift up the seat, T

Or wipe off the pee.

This is the second chorus:

Eat all your food, dude

Don't tell me no lie, guy

You're gettin' on my nerves, boy

Just listen to me!

Cut out the fuss, Gus

You don't need to discuss much

It's time for the bed now,

...you better listen to me.