Show and Tell

I remember when I was in elementary school. Yes I do, shut up. And there were a small number of events where your parents actually came to your classroom and/or school; aside from arrival and dismissal. Those functions included but were not limited too and in no particular order: Open House, Back to School Night, and The Christmas Program. That was it. Parents? In the classroom? Volunteering? What? Grandparents Day? Huh? Mother's Day, Father's Day, Sweetheart Dance, Talent Show, Father/Son Movie Night, Fall Carnival Fund raiser, Spring Carnival Fund raiser...and....? It seems that our generation of offspring have unleashed some kind of mass-parent-involvement trend. I'm not complaining. It's fun and I enjoy it. There is always something going on. Did I say always? Always. I get to be a PTA kind of mom without actually being an active member of the PTA. So, where am I going with this? My youngest son is VIP of his classroom this week. Everyday the teacher and his classmates take a few moments to make him feel speschuuul. Monday he shared his family scrapbook. Tuesday was show and tell about an item he brought from home. Today he (I) brought in a special treat for his class (Milano cookies because I rule). Tomorrow he gets to bring and read his favorite story. So tonight, I guess, he needs to figure out what that story is! But Friday. Oh, Friday. Friday I get to come to his class and interview him with my trusty list of scripted questions provided by Mrs. Second-Grade. She's also instructed me to "be prepared to share a story about your VIP".

So, not only am I (a parent) attending a school related function, but I'm also expected to perform. Oy. The pressure. Telling a story about my child should be easy, right? I mean, how hard can that be? I've got so many to choose from. Except that the stories that are fondly remembered by me, Mom, would probably humiliate my son to no end IN FRONT OF HIS ENTIRE CLASS. And kids can be mean and relentless, so the last thing I want to do is arm them with an arsenal of embarrassing anecdotes to torment my son with for the remainder of his academic career.

I'm also expected to describe what makes my son special to me. That's easy. Um. He's my son. And he's special to me because he came out of my vagina. All the people who've passed through my vagina are very special to me. What I want to ask his teacher is, "what makes him so special to you"? Do you think that might make my son just drop dead on the spot if I actually said that? Probably. Better come up with something else.