As you all know, it’s now been a few months since I had a psychotic break and agreed to be the Fourth Grade Room Mom, but I have to say, it’s going much better than I expected. True, what I expected was that I’d be hovering on the ledge of a highrise screaming, “I AIN’T COMIN’ DOWN THERE TIL ONE A YOU SHREWS SIGNS UP FOR FREAKIN’ LUNCHROOM DUTY! YEAH, YOU BETTER CALL THE SWAT TEAM MINDY! I’M GONE JUMP, ASSWIPE! Hey, why are these pigeons looking at me funny?” so I guess that’s not really saying much.
Anyway, not to brag, but here are just a couple of my recent Room Mom triumphs:
Sent email to the classroom parents that said:
“Attention all! On March 1st at 1:00 p.m., Rick The Science Guy will be performing Science experiments on our kids!”
And believe it or not, not only did no one get upset that I accidentally typed “on” instead of “for,” I even had a few moms specifically ask if their children could be the unwitting guinea pigs. Isn’t that sweet? (Also, those moms are now on my list of “houses my sons are not allowed to visit without major supervision and/or a hidden camera in their Beyblades.” I mean, WTF?)
Successfully got out of school carnival booth duty because, upon finding out our booth was the M*A*S*H tent where parents dress the kids with bandages and fake corn syrup blood, I started hysterically screaming and told the other moms that there was absolutely no way I could do it because I’d have “gnarly ‘Nam flashbacks, man.”
Of course, you and I both know that I’m far too young and weak to have fought in the Vietnam War, and that my ‘Nam flashbacks are actually about the day I had the stomach flu and “Good Morning Vietnam” was stuck in the VCR and I had to watch that turd three times in a row, but none of those ninnies figured that out and therefore I got to spend the entire carnival stealing food from the Cake Walk and making fun of the idiot woman who wore a white t-shirt in the dunking booth.
I swear, sometimes it’s just too easy.
Delegated the planning and execution of our 4th grade teacher’s bridal shower to a mom who travels with her own crystal vases and chocolate fountain. Meaning, no workee for the Wendi. Then, during the bridal shower, I contributed by sidling up to the other parents and whispering, “If a cop shows up, he’s probably not really a cop. WINK. Hahahaha! By the way, do you have any singles?”
Morale building. Just as important as crystal vases, baby.
At the class Valentine’s Day party, watched a jumpy 9-year-old named Braydon down two huge Pixy Stix, some Fun Dip and what appeared to be a kilo of Red Hots in under 10 minutes. Then, in my official capacity of Room Mom, performed a very important public service by telling him what “detox” is and why he should strongly consider it.
“You may start shaking a little and see some weird psychedelic cyborgs on your bedroom wall, but that’s all part of the sugar leaving your system, kid,” I told him. “So why don’t you just go ahead and just give me all of your Valentine’s chocolate now for safe keeping? No, not the cheap kind. The Godiva kind. There you go, hand it over. That’s a good boy. Hey, where’s the Almond Roca? OMG, are you still holding? NARC! NARC!”
Obviously, with this much incredible success, I’ll probably be asked to be Room Mom again next year. And the year after that. And the year after…
I’ll be up here with the pigeons if you need me.