While it’s typically the norm for me, I was sorely outnumbered by the moms this morning by exactly 27 to 1. Perhaps, my adolescent fantasies have simply come back to haunt me. Anyway, at the parent meeting for my ten year old’s new school, we sat in chairs arranged in a nice, clean concentric circle. That is, with the exception of one chair that was strategically maneuvered a foot or two back from the rest..ever so slightly from this perfect circle. It was essentially my chair’s way of saying, “I’m a part of this. I’m with all of you but I’m also giving everyone their personal space. I assure you that my resident and his testosterone will remain outside of the nucleus.” It’s these little nuances that mildly sedate quite a few sets of nerves (ok, maybe just mine) when the dude (i.e. me) infiltrates the mommy clan.
Sure, I know the school’s email was sent to me and it clearly explained that the talk was for fourth grade parents to attend. But I knew I’d be the only one there carrying his wallet in his front pants pocket rather than a purse. As one of the moms was telling me how “nice” it was that I was there, I think she might have believed me to be insincere when I returned the compliment by saying that it was nice that “she” was there as well. What is life, if not a potpourri of confusion & misunderstanding anyway? However, with Angela’s crazy schedule, I’ve been mixing it up with the moms for the better part of 10 years now. So, while I’m thinking that I’ve pretty much got this parenting thing down pat, a real seasoned veteran, bringing Venus and Mars a bit closer together, the school psychiatrist begins the meeting by explaining the agenda for today’s discussion. And right then and there she goes ahead and drops the P-bomb on us..puberty!
