Friday, April 16, 2010For the second semester in a row, The Kid made honor roll (goooooo, Kid!), and his school does this assembly thing where they honor all the
I kinda hate going to those things because -
1) I, generally, couldn't care less about other people's kids. I mean, if I know you, I care, of course, but there are only so many little girls named Megan or Bella in Uggs and little boys named Chase or Austin with 70s hair I can clap for.
2) I never fit in with the other parents because I'm not some plastic 40-year-old in full makeup and jewelery and a jogging suit, or a frumpy housefrau in a flowered Wal*Mart top and cheap running shoes.
But I show up because I adore The Kid and am thrilled beyond belief that he's not one of those kids who eats paste or smells like pee.
I sit through the ceremony and clap and snap pictures and when that part is over, the kids are given some time to mingle with the parents. The Kid and I exchange whatever small talk we've got (not much, since it's barely been an hour since I dropped him off) and then we stand around eating Oreos and drinking apple juice.
"So, how much longer do I have to be the proud parent before I can go?" I ask.
The Kid grins and offers me a fist bump. "I thought you would never ask, I'm going to go hang out with my friends."
Also, in case you were wondering what Billy Bob Thorton has been up to lately? Apparently, he's teaching 6th grade at The Kid's school. And he's either gay or way metrosexual, as he walked by me, I heard him tell one of his students that her coat was "Very fall in New York".
Labels: adventures in shitty parenting