Saturday, April 11, 2009

my kid hasn't yet reached that magical angsty age where he wants nothing to do with his parents, so recently, he begged me to come help out with his class's Easter* party and I agreed.

I show up in class at the appointed time, hair brushed, deodorant applied, tattoos mostly covered (basically looking nothing like the scroungy couch monster I am in real life) and the teacher sets me and a few other moms to work covering a bunch of desks with newspaper and arranging cups of jellybeans.

Once the kids return from recess, the teacher starts explaining the "stations" and exactly what's going on - the egg dyeing station, the alternate egg decorating station, the Easter basket decoration station, the snack station, and the fraction worksheet station.

Wanna take a wild guess which station I was assigned to?

Yeah, the motherfucking fraction worksheet station.

I got out of pajamas for this?

WHUT???

The other parents get candy, juiceboxes and cut up pieces of tissue paper and I get MATH**????

Thanks.

Maybe at the next party, while other parents are running the kitten-petting station and the obsequious flattery stations, I could work the quadratic-equations-and-trips-to-the-dentist station.


(Fortunately, my kid's in the gifted program, so the eggheads in his class didn't gripe too much about having to count out jellybeans, graph them and turn that into fractions, especially because they got to keep the jellybeans afterwards - but still)



Damn, how many times have I posted about my kid lately? I might as well be one of those mommy bloggers. Geez.

*yes, Easter party, not "Spring" party, not "pre-Spring Break" party, Easter party.

** I'm not saying I didn't have any fun with it.

I asked one kid if his fractions were all in simplest form and he nods.

me: Are you sure? Because if they're not, I get to keep your jellybeans.

him: What if I lick all the jellybeans?

me: What if I already did?

he looks at me, a little skeptically, like he doesn't believe me.

me (pointing to my kid): I'm pretty gross, ask him

my kid nods emphatically without looking up from his work.

that kid sets down his cup o' jellybeans and picks up his pencil to re-do his worksheet.

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting