This morning our elementary school held an awards ceremony for the third grade. My resident third grader, Sam, was very excited about this, and told Chris and me to get there early because he was “probably going to get like, one of the first awards or something.” Sam is nothing if not confident.
We showed up to the ceremony right on time and watched as all of the kids filed in and sat down on the floor in front of us. Sam, effortlessly chic in a blue and yellow football jersey and red and green shorts, quickly scanned the crowd of parents with his patented “Where the hell are they?” look, then visibly relaxed when he saw us waving at him like he was Elvis risen from the dead. (And yes, he is dead, Dad. For the last time, that wasn’t Elvis you saw buying a washing machine in the Reno Best Buy. It was just a fat guy in a cape.)
The first awards given were for Excellence in Conduct, which Sam did in fact win, and as each of the well-behaved kids stood up to receive their prize (a pencil!), the assembled parents applauded wildly. Then we all tried really hard to not look smugly at the parents whose kids spent most of the year in the principal’s office for plugging up the boys’ room sinks with toilet paper. Oh, parental superiority. Why are you so hard to control?
Next came awards for the kids who had a B average, then the awards for the kids who got A’s all year long. Like Sam. My son. The future President of the United States. (Oh, you thought it was going to be your kid? Sorry, but Sam was in the gifted program IN THE WOMB, suckas. I started campaign fundraising when he was nursing.) This time around, Sam got a nice medal to wear around his neck and…a pencil! Seriously, what’s with all of the office supply prizes? My living room looks like freaking Staples.
With no more awards to distribute, the school principal congratulated the kids, then she completely shocked the crowd by inviting any parent or relative in attendance to get up and say a few words into the microphone. Yeah. Open mic day at a grade school. I’m guessing that probably doesn’t happen in Jersey.
I wasn’t even considering going up front, but then my husband elbowed me and whispered, “Just go up and tell everyone that you have a few things to get off your chest, then belch and knock over the mic stand.” I ignored him and looked over to my left where my friend Jeannie was hissing, “Go drop the f-bomb, Wendi!” and my other friend Nancy was snorting, “Run up and yell, ‘Hey, A-Honor Roll, must be nice to peak when you’re nine!’ Ha, ha, ha! Do it, y’all!”
Oh, my God, I thought as I leaned back in my seat. Is that what my friends and family think of me? That I’d actually do something obnoxious at a school function? Do I really have that bad of a reputation? I tossed this idea around in my head for a few minutes, but then I suddenly had something of an epiphany: perhaps as a mother, the only people in the entire world who truly know the real me, my genuine soul, are my children. My wonderful children. And I’m sure they’d never, ever think I’d do something to embarrass them in public.
Not two seconds later, Sam abruptly stood up in the front of the room and frantically tried to catch my eye. As I beamed at this beautiful child, my first born son who loves me unconditionally, he pointed to the microphone where various moms and dads were lining up to say nice things about their children. “Aw,” I said to Chris, “I think he wants me to get up there and tell everyone what’s in my heart. Isn’t that sweet?”
But then Sam stared me dead in the eye, continued to point at the microphone and sternly shook his little head while mouthing the two simple words that prove he does know me better than anyone else: “DON’T, MOMMY.”
So I didn’t.
But I still managed to break a few Excellence in Conduct pencils on my way out.
______________________
Any time they “open the floor” at events like that I pray someone like you will talk so I don’t want to shove a pencil in my eye.
Now I know why they don’t… I’m still not happy about it though.
Even though he knows you well, apparently, it’s a sweet story.
Smart kid. Just like his mom.
I would have paid good money to see you stand up.
And I would die if our school ever did something like that. I wouldn’t be able to bear listening to all the parents raving about how “special” their future JuVee hall resident is.
So glad I decided to drop in today. Sumbitch, woman, that’s some good Texas bull.
It’s a good thing your child is a bunch of years older than mine otherwise I fear we’d be in fierce competition come election time. Didn’t you know? I’ve got a future president too.
As a Jersey mom, I completely agree they would NEVER open mic at one of my kids’ school functions. NEVER. Or else. Seriously, do you watch the RHONJ??? Those crazies mean business and I don’t mean the legal kind. That’s why I hide away in my house all day talking to people who live nowhere near me. Isn’t that why God invented the Twitter?
I think Texas must be a safer place to live than NJ. Must talk to the husband about that move…
I know times are bleak but seriously, a PENCIL?
Is this a Depression Era school?
Does a Bic pen cost $24.00?
Is this thing on?
I am very high on Dental Vicodin so ignore me totally.
Awards to the B average kids? This whole Every Kids a Winner thing is getting out of hand.
Related…recently my 8yo asked me if I ever got a grade less than a B, and I told her about the D I got in “Math for Liberal Arts Majors” my freshman year of college. And how I gladly took that grade and ran. She cried for me. The poor child was traumatized.
God help us if there aren’t enough pencil awards to go around for her generation!
What?
How could you resist????
You made Sam proud. What is with the pencils? Did they have a school logo on? Or made of gold?
Sounds like he’s good in school, and pretty good at reading his mother. 🙂
An open mic at the end? Thank gawd they didn’t have that way back when I was in school. My mother was QUEEN of the embarrassing speeches. She probably would have gone straight up there and talked about my period … or my large boobs.
You’re a good mom!
I hear office supplies are now being locked up in most places, so I count Sam lucky as the owner of 2 new pencils.
You would have rocked the open mic session.
Our school would never be brave enough to open the mic – too many chatty moms would love to have the floor. Hope you have a fantastic summer! Looking forward to Wendi’s wisdom for surviving with 4 kids and no camps. Maybe a punch card at Twin Liquors?
That is daring on the part of the school, and bravo for starting your “office supplies museum” early. We have (unsharpened) pencils for every occasion around here. I’m thinking about offering them as prizes at our block party. But then we’d have a long summer of ding-dong-ditch at our door.
Way to go Sam! And I say that, more for knowing your mommy better than anyone else, and not for starting to develop your hoarding condition with all those pencil awards.
Disappointed in you, Wendi. Very disappointed.
What is up with all the pencils? What am I supposed to do – spend a day sharpening them all and then hand them to my kids? Look girls – they come in no colors, no scent and well – just toss them in the trash.
Didn’t think kids were embarrassed around their parents until they were older. I guess Sam is quite advanced. You should have taken the mike though:)
Are your children related to mine?
Just tell Sam you’re happy not to do the open mic in elementary school, because you’re saving up all your best material for open mic at COLLEGE GRADUATION. Because that wouldn’t scar him for life, or anything.
BTW, yes, we do all think of you as a person who would grab the mic and belch just to get the laugh. Why else are we reading you?
This was the BEST story ever!! Yea to Sammy for his awards!! I wish I could have been there to see him mouth DON’T MOMMY!! Classic!!
So funny! I am on my way to my son’s awards ceremony. HE BETTER GET A FRICKIN’ PENCIL!!
I think it’s because they all know you’re the Fun Mom. Which is why Sam had ZERO INTEREST in you joining in line.
Kids just think Fun Mom = Embarrassing Mom. They’re not that good at math.
Pencils? Can’t those be used as weapons? Is that really appropriate to a give a child? Even one as gifted and talented as your (or should I say especially one of yours?)
I’m disappointed you didn’t beat box and rap.
This is a gem. Pencils? Seriously? I know that the schools have taken hits but couldn’t they have printed out something to give the kids? A small amount of paper is cheaper than pencils and you know they buy in bulk.
Pencils as awards, because we’re hoping that someone-anyone-will show up with a pencil. Seriously, I am the only one who buys pencils. I’m the teacher.
Elvis is dead?? The least you could have done was say “spoiler alert”. Man.
So hilarious, Wendi!
Heh!
Now there’s a thought, that the kids are the ones who know a mother best. Hmm….
If you did do it I so would have wanted to see a youtube of that speech.
That is classic. I love it. And I mostly love how your husband called exactly what I think you’d do at a real open mic night.
Hey – I want you called in with Edwards for violating campaign finance law. WOMB FUNDRAISING IS AGAINST THE LAW. Unless you were wearing a belly band, and then you earned every penny.
Effortlessly chic. I love it. Sounds like me.
The obvious answer to the open mic conundrum is to go drunk next year, Wendi. And then just have at ’em. I’ll fly in for it.
No pencils. I’ll bring you a Sharpie. For the graffiti we’ll do afterwards.
I went through a fuss to get the boys to the last few minutes of LTYM so they could see “what Mommy does.” As I went to approach them in the lobby, beaming with pride, I came upon to sullen boys each of whom greeted me with–well actually looked right past me and at the concessions with:
“I. WANT. A. TREAT.”
i hope you are working on a full song-and-dance number for the fourth grade awards ceremony!
That’s alright. Whatever they don’t want you doing in front of the school staff and students, you can do in the privacy of the internets.
Girl, you’ve still got it. I have missed your writing. Thanks!