Saturday, January 29, 2005

That's MRS. Cranky Pants To You!

No, I didn't paint this. Image from MS Clip Art.Educators take note: some busy mothers get really cranky when you push them at certain times of the month. Yes, I'm talking about me.

Earlier this week, I spent two hours schlepping my daughter to a special elementary school dance performance. It wasn't even at her own school. It was at a community center, two towns away. Seems that her third grade class had been invited to participate in some sort of county-sponsored show. Ordinarily I would enjoy something like this. After all, what's cuter than your little angel attempting to jitterbug? How about a bunch of other little angels from other towns, that you don't know or care about, attempting to jitterbug? Badly. For two hours. When you have a pounding headache and feel like barfing. How cute is that, huh?

On this particular night, I had The Mother of All Menstrual Cramps and I was in a BAD MOOD. My husband was out of town on a business trip, so I couldn't bale out. My daughter said she had to go: she had been practicing for weeks and her classmates were counting on her! Kids can sure dish out the guilt, eh? So even though I felt dizzy and nauseous, I went.


Behind me sat The Whistler. He had a compulsion to stick his boney fingers in his mouth and produce an eardrum-shattering shriek after every single dance group. There were at least a dozen dance groups before my daughter's class came on. Woo hoo, kids, that was great! SHRIEK! SHRIEK!

Next to me was The Fat Slob Leg Shaker, producing enough seismic waves in the bleachers to churn butter. Dammit man, did you do 12 lines of coke before you came in here? Didn't your mother ever teach you how to SIT STILL!?

Shriek, Shriek! Shake, shake, shake, shake! Shriek, Shriek! Shake, shake, shake,shake. I needed to barf. Halfway through this excruciating attempt at entertainment, I considered taking center stage and blowing my brains out.

Oh, but aren't the kids CUTE?

I sat there and smiled. Ok, that's a lie. I grimaced.

When my little angel finally came out with her class, I dutifully videotaped her adorable performance for posterity. And then I clapped. Never mind that my insides were rapidly hermorrhaging and all I wanted was a warm bed with a soft pillow and darkness and total silence. I had to fulfill my parental duty. And I didn't want to hurt my daughter's feelings.

Eventually The Evening From Hell ended and I got my wish: a warm bed with a soft pillow and darkness and total silence. I spent most of the next day in bed, feeling like the big Monty Python foot had descended from the sky and squashed me flat.

Oh, how I enjoy being a girl.

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