Academy fight song

Last night my mother gave my father a toolbox.
"I think this is yours, Don, although I have this odd feeling I should have picked it up earlier," my mother said. My father opened the blue and yellow toolbox and pulled out a meatball baller, a ligonberry press and a full set of Allen keys.
"It says it's for Dr. Larson, though," my father said.
"I think it's from that crazy dentist down the hall. Everyone on the floor got toolkits," my mother said.
"And I suppose he doesn't know you're English," my father said. My mother nodded. I guess my mother would have received a toolkit with a tea strainer in it or something if the dentist knew.
Things have been busy at the tutoring table this week, with exams and essays coming up. Zapata took the principal's bribe and joined a carolling group. Better her than me. Jeremy Jones came by the library when I had a break from the grade 9 students.
"Thanks for not breaking up with Duncan again this weekend," he said. "I had enough to do with Zapata breaking up with Eldritch again this weekend."
"Well, you're a very good listener, Jeremy, and very honest. A lot of girls like that." Then we both stared at each other for a bit, then he grabbed his backpack and left suddenly. After two more grade 9s I left too, since I had to retrieve Charles Wallace from his new school. The principal at Glenallen told my parents to switch Charles Wallace out while his teacher was tied up with court appearances. My brother was transferred to King Edward VIII public school and was adjusting to having a regular class schedule again.
When I got to King Edward VIII I was in time to pull my brother out of a trashcan in front of the gym doors.
"Thanks, Sandra. Tomorrow could you come a little earlier, before they shove me in the garbage?"
"I had to tutor--the principal's making me fill out timecards." Charles Wallace dusted himself off and we started to walk home. We had bought the Christmas tree last night and Duncan was coming over to help put it up and avoid watching the Leafs lose. Christmas decoration detritus was all over the living room when we got in. A half hour after we got home, Duncan arrived and I ordered pizza.
"Is anyone else helping with this?" Charles Wallace asked about the tree.
"Besides Duncan? Just Dad. Mom's at the hospital," I said. I spoke a little too soon. Someone started banging on the door loudly. "Oh shit, it's probably Arne." Duncan picked up some garland and held it defensively as I opened the door. Arne stumbled in, wearing a half-destroyed Santa suit.
"They're animals! Animals!" He went to the fridge for a beer, and then explained that he'd just escaped a toy riot at IKEA. Apparently nobody told Arne that Santa could only promise children products from IKEA, and he got attacked by a group of irate preschoolers who didn't want shelving for Christmas. "When I got out, they were throwing ligonberry at the elves. It wasn't pretty."