I rushed into open house at Squishy’s elementary school last spring with a sense of trepidation. It was the middle of our March Madness. First, The Captain was one week from the opening of Thoroughly Modern Millie at his high school (he directed, I choreographed). Also, spring baseball had started for both boys, and finally, all three of the dudes I live with were in rehearsal for the Wizard of Oz. Needless to say, I was a human taxi cab and the Open House became one of four stops that evening.
After finding a place to park (because this is not easy on Open House evening), I finally had the chance to get a good look at Squishy. He had chocolate ice cream all down the front of his white Life is Good t-shirt. Awesome.
“Squishy, did Grandma really have to give you ice cream the second before I picked you up?” I asked as I took his incredibly sticky hand in mine.
“Mom, I wanted it and she gave it to me. Geez. I was hungry, but now I want a Star Wars book from the book fair and a brownie,” he replied, quite sure of his goals for the Open House.
“I don’t think so,” I said as we continued through the door.
Squishy dropped my hand and ran down the hall like lightening. I was hustling behind him, bumping into the massive herd of parents in the hallway.
“Wait up,” I called to him, as I tried to put on a very fake “I have everything under control and my life is really a dream” smile for the parents who turned their heads to look at me.
“I am trying to catch up with you, sweetheart!” I stated to him in an as pleasant as I could get, sing-song voice.
“Mom, you are so slow,” he hollered down the hallway, “Oh, and I farted. Safety!”
Awesome. Now my kindergartener has yelled “fart” across a crowed hallway.
But it gets better. It always does. A guy I dated for a long while BC – Before Captain, Before Children – was standing nearby with his absolutely beautiful, poster-like family. And he was smirking. Did I mention it always gets better?
My fake smile turned into gritted teeth. My posture changed to that of a wild animal. My hair turned into the snakes of Medusa. I smirked back while briskly walking by and said, “Hi there. Gotta catch up with my little man!”
Secretly, I kind of hoped that the fart would linger and bring the idyllic family to its knees. That would be awesome.