The school year is coming to a close and many of you are welcoming summer with glee. As your child graduates from one grade to the next, you may feel the pang in your heart knowing that yes, your baby is growing up. My daughter will be saying good-bye to Kindergarten this year and I have to keep myself from letting the torrent of tears flow down my face, because….
…I am going to miss the crap out of my daughter’s teacher. Seriously. This woman is the Child Whisperer. Whoever is your kid’s teacher, ours is better – trust me.
While my daughter learned to read this past year, I learned what a crappy parent I am, thanks to the talents of the wonderful Mrs. Blank (let’s keep her real name under wraps). With her magic wand of awesomeness, Mrs. Blank was able to get the children to do such things as:
1) Sit when asked.
2) Put away toys – on the first request.
3) Be quiet and – wait for it – listen. (I know!)
4) Keep underpants on at all times.
She did this and so much more all while NEVER raising her voice. In fact, she sometimes whispered, yes, whispered to get the attention of the class.
I can’t get my child to do any of the above unless threats are made of an untimely Barbie demise. Someone should reward this lady.
When discussing end of school year gifts for the teacher and teaching assistant, I suggested a house in the Caymans and an Audi respectively. I was informed that these items were a little over our budget. We decided on a decorative pin. Oh well.
Nonetheless, I realized that while I may not be able to reward my daughter’s fan-tab-u-lous teacher, I could still milk her for information. Therefore, I have compiled a list of pertinent questions before I say my final goodbyes to Mrs. Blank:
1) Do you conduct certification courses? I must have skipped the training classes at the hospital after I gave birth to my daughter. Perhaps I could take a fast track one – like getting a GED.
2) Do you conduct home visits?
3) Are you related to the Super Nanny?
4) Are you coming with us to the First Grade? Oh no? Well then, can you come back when my daughter turns fifteen? I have a feeling that the you-know-what is gonna hit the fan at that time – Hurricane Bob style.
5) Are you a robot?
6) Was Mary Poppins your grandmother? (Why are all the best child wranglers from England? Hmmm.)
7) Do you work with dogs?
8) Can you do anything about my spit ends? (Hey, it’s worth a try.)
9) Are you a magician?
10) Are you running for office? No? Well can I put your name down and vote for you anyway?
11) Can you get my husband to stop snoring/throw his fruit roll-up wrappers into the trash/wipe his chin after eating corn on the cob/stop watching American Pickers at volume 289?
I have many more questions to ask Mrs. Blank, but this is a start. And while I do feel slightly, okay, massively inadequate in the parenting skills department when I’m around Mrs. Blank, oh well. My daughter is still my daughter, and I am still her mommy, and that’s the way I like it. She’s my girl and that’s that.
Even if I can’t get her to pick up her f*&%ing toys.