Recycling

Every year the third graders at Pleasant Suburban Elementary create and present solar system projects. Big sister Katie's massive rendition of the solar system in paper mache swirling with realistic looking metallic paint in fiery bronze and gold close to the 9" diameter sun that cooled to icy pearl as one reached teensy Pluto earned her the top grade available. It was doubly impressive that she did so well when her work was showcased against that of all the other parents kids. The word, "planet," still causes Mom to produce an involuntary tic.
Erin's class received the dreaded assignment on Monday. Erin opted to not mention it the first night. (Mom's dislike of this assignment is well known, and Erin avoids conflict like the plague.) Yesterday, as we drove her to school, she dropped the bombshell news of the recurrence in our lives of the Solar System Project. The conversation in the carpool lane went very much like this:
Erin: "Do we still have Katie's Solar System Project?"
Mom: "No way. That... that... monstrosity is long gone."
Erin: "Oh. I was just thinking that if we could find it, I could just turn in Katie's project."
Mom: "Um. No. That would not be okay. You need to do your own work; otherwise, it's called cheating."