I was THAT parent today. The sitcom parent. You know, the one who is doing everything in their power to maximize embarrassment for herself and her children. The one who has hundreds of people pissed off at her all before 8:30 am.
Today was Grandparents' Day at school. Loosely translated, it is the day where the kids' grandparents come in for a class or two, eat cookies, have milk and get their picture taken with one another. I volunteered to donate milk. Go me!
The girls usually ride the bus but since two of them would be carrying a gallon of milk, I threw on a bra AND socks and drove them to school. Now, some of you know that my mom-mobile/mini-van is very recognizable. Weird color, dents, bumper stickers and the vanity license plate. Blind people would have no problem picking my car out of a line-up.
We get to school and there is no one in car line. I look at the clock and it displays 8:17, too early, by all the email, flyer and newsletter appeals to parents to leave their kids and run. I pull into the orange traffic cone cattle chute and sit and wait. I am first in line.
As the minutes tick by, the girls start to ask me why other kids are out of their cars and walking by us. And looking. And laughing. And pointing. Meanwhile I am fuming over the parents who are driving in front of me and dropping their kids off. I look behind me and see a stream of mini vans and SUVs and angry, angry drivers wondering why I have not moved or dropped off my children.
Um, I ask the girls. Doesn't a teacher come out and greet the cars to tell us it is time to let you out? No. No. No. I manage to get three kids out of the car and peel out of the parking lot and drown my shame in a bag of Mickey D's.
I guess next time I go to school I will be driving the incognito “dad sedan”. Sigh.