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Wearing a sign saying “Sucker”
I
sometimes wonder if I have a big sign posted square in the middle of my
forehead marked "Sucker.” Because it seems to me (in my very
biased opinion) that I often get the very short end of deals. Take for
instance, the field trip I chaperoned yesterday. My son and I had been
looking forward to the trip for a long time to a nearby university for
the play "Charlotte's Web." A favorite book; a beloved movie-
the play was just bound to be a marvelous experience.
Now as legend has it, the reason I had "the worst kid in the
class" in my group is because when my son was asked who he would
like to be in our group, he said, "I don't care." He later
told me that was because his best friend's mother was also chaperoning
and since he couldn't be with his friend, any ole kid would do.
Except for Jeffrey. EXCEPT FOR JEFFREY- he should have said! ANY CHILD
IN THE TRI-STATE AREA, EXCEPT FOR JEFFREY!!!!!!! But no..... he didn't
utter those words and so it was that we ended up with the overly active,
overly loud, overly rude, overly overly Jeffrey in our group.
I pride myself on not being one of those wishy-washy moms who cannot
manage to even discipline a child without an apology. You know the type.
They are the ones who while Damien is throwing eggs out of the carton
onto the Winn Dixie floor like hand grenades starts out by saying in
sweet, dolce tones, "Now, Damien, I am soooooo sorry, baby, but you
cannot throw the eggs on the floor." (Believe me, there are a lot
of them out there.) To which the kid usually responds by throwing an egg
in his mother's face. At this point, one would THINK that she would
snatch him up and spank his ever lovin' behind, but nooooooo, she'll
wipe the eggs out of her eyes, and say, "Something must be troublin'
you, sugah. Because you don't usually act like this and Mama is afraid
she is going to have to discipline you." (This is not a pretty
scene and these kids at 16 are even worse than they are at 3).
I am not sure what kind of mama Jeffrey has, or if he even has one. I am
kind of leaning to the theory that he was raised by a bunch of wolves in
the forest and has been living under his own set of wildebeest rules.
And let me reiterate; I have no problem disciplining a child, mine or
others. So when I yelled in my very loud, very stern voice,
"JEFFREY GET BACK HERE!" when he first jotted oh, MILES from
where he was supposed to be and I kind of thought he'd listen.
Only that joke was on me, because, as my son later informed me,
"Jeffrey doesn't listen to anybody." I had to bodily chase
that kid down and grab him by the arm and forcefully bring his body back
into the group.
I didn't miss the gym at all yesterday because I was so busy chasing
Jeffrey all over the campus. I did, however, miss most of the dialogue
in the play because Jeffrey liked to talk REALLY LOUDLY during the play.
"Why is that man dressed as a pig?" He asked me. I put my
finger to my lips in the universal "shhhhhhh" sign but he
didn't give a wit about my shhhhh. "Is it almost over?" He
bellowed. (We were approximately 3 minutes into the play.) After about
his fifteenth question in as many minutes, I leaned into his ear and
hissed (and I do mean HISSED- the snake in the Garden of Eden did not
carry the venom I did) "You are not supposed to talk at a play!
Just watch and maybe you'll understand what is going on!"
"Why is that lady dressed all in black? Is she supposed to be a
spider?" By the end of the day I would have gladly paid someone
five dollars to take an ax and split open my head to put me out of my
misery. My son's teacher, knowledgeable about the huge imposition she
had put me under said, when we returned, "I am sorry about that-
you son said he didn't care who we put in your group and we knew you
could handle anything." That was just her way of trying to butter
me up to cover the fact that my one day in hell was a blessed respite
from her continual, five day a week ordeal in dealing with this demon
child.
I
am certain that my "sucker" days are far from over; for I seem
to have a knack of being led into circumstances in which my endurance,
patience, and ability not to "snap" are continually tested. I
am, however, going to warn my son that on the very next field trip he is
to be sure and tell the teacher: "Anyone but Jeffrey."
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