Ouch Dammit!

Friday morning, Co-Defendant #2 had a poetry recital where, complete with props, she recited Daddy Fell Into The Pond by Alfred Noyes with poise and confidence.  I was so proud.  And if you’re interested, I can recite the damn thing in my sleep.  By recital day, I was ready to shove Daddy into the pond and hold him under.  Bad mommy…

Afterward, the mommies all gathered round their respective offspring for hugs and high fives and I was no exception.  Down the hall in her classroom there awaited a Mothers’ Day reception where I’d perch myself on an impossibly tiny, hard plastic chair and partake of a cupcake and Kool-Aid and try my hand at conversation with women with whom I had absolutely nothing in common.  Well, other than an obnoxious seven year old, of course.

There she stood with a shy smile and pink cheeks as I congratulated her on a job well done.

Then she said:  I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t want you to come.  I don’t want to be embarrassed.  Would you please just leave?  I’ll give you twenty kisses when I get home, okay?  Bye, Mom and waited expectantly for me to get the hell out

I’d heard the expression like being stabbed in the heart and now I knew firsthand what that meant.  THAT FRIGGIN’ HURT!  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, pausing to ask her to clarify what she meant only to have her assure me what she wanted was for me to leave.  Bye-bye…ta-ta…see ya later.  Talk about don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out!  After calling my mother who totally got the magnitude of what I was experiencing and my husband on whom the whole concept was totally lost, I went home and got my mad on.  I so did not sign up for this shit.  Not fair shouted my inner child as she stamped her foot. 

I came to the conclusion that for her, school was her domain and she didn’t want Mom to be a part of it.  Fair enough, but I didn’t have to like it.  My work schedule doesn’t allow for me to put in many school appearances so when I’m able, I go. 

She got in the car at pickup time and informed me she’d missed me terribly after I left and was sorry she’d made me go.

Crickets chirping

Let me get this straight, I said.  Your exact words were…I want you to go.  I don’t want to be embarrassed.  I left as you requested.  You got what you wanted.

Dead silence.  Even my son, the master of Blunt and Thoughtless, was stunned into silence.  I caught the  sideways Holy crap glance he directed at his sister and knew she was squirming like a fish on a hook.  I let her know that while she was allowed to express her thoughts and feelings, her delivery was a bit off and my feelings were hurt.  She was apologizing before I even finished my spiel.  I informed them that given the opportunity, I would be present at school functions but that I solemnly swore I would not pick my nose, scratch my butt or fart…uttered with my right hand raised.

They are satisfied.

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One thought on “Ouch Dammit!

  1. I often tell my children that I know I embarrassed them but it will give them funny stories to tell when they have to stand around my casket at the funeral home.Kids have the most power in our lives, don't they? I am sorry you were hurt but she learned a valuable lesson, too. Good parenting day.

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