Last night was ‘Back To School Night’ at Varmint’s middle school. It’s hard for me to go to these things for several reasons:
1) I know, I just KNOW, that I will screw up and eventually say something to a teacher that will embarrass my Varmint.
2) I have a knack for embarrassing My Captain at these things.
3) I think many of the other parents are embarrassed for me, because when I’m talking, their faces resemble those of the audience of the VMA awards when Miley Cyrus, and Lady Gaga, um, performed.
4) If I weren’t so numb to my own foolishness, I’d be embarrassed as well.
My family puts up with me and my foibles for reasons unknown. They never disown me. At least, not to date. I think that they know that I always go in with the best of intentions, but no matter how I try to stifle my “ME-ness,” it just comes pouring out.
And usually in an overly loud, bowl-everyone-over-like-a-tsunami kind of way.
Intention SHOULD count, I tell my family. I only mean to do good and right, honestly I do.
But in my defense, I was NOT prepared to see the dead, vacuum packed frogs the children will be made to cut, that would send me into an emotional tail-spin the likes of which you’ve never seen. Think Jewish/Italian/Hispanic mothers at a funeral/wedding/briss.
And NO ONE had informed me it would be hotter than blazes in the room and I’d have to take my sweater off, thus showing my pants were ripped a bit in the behind.
And I had no idea that once I squeezed my middle-aged big butt into a 7th grade desk-attached-seat, and then went to stand up quickly when we were dismissed, that my girth would carry the desk halfway up with me, and then, when my folds could no longer compensate for the force of gravity, would send it crashing down.
I mean, we need to consider the intent before we condemn all of these unfortunate events. Am I right, or am I right?
Of course I’m right.
I console myself that I didn’t fart on anyone in the school. At least, not obviously.
But we don’t need to go down that road.
The final classroom we visited last night was Varmint’s English teacher’s. On her wall was a colorful poster that simply read,
“I Won’t Give Up On You.”
Isn’t that a beautiful thing for a teacher to put at the front of the class? Isn’t that the most marvelous thought a teacher could gift to struggling young tweens?
I wish my family would hang that up in the kitchen for me. Maybe one of you could send them a hint! Nothing obvious, and please don’t tell them I sent you!
That would be swell! You guys are the best!