Mother Daugher Luncheon
Lauren has been asking, and asking, and asking, in a persistent manner that is hers and hers alone, if I would come and eat lunch with her at school. In theory there is nothing wrong with this request – I like her, I like lunch – but in reality, lunching at the school involves a lot of logistics (getting lunch and then to school on time), heavy–lifting (that would be Marty), and time (Lauren’s lunch starts at 11:25, Aislinn’s ends at 12:45 – you didn’t really think I’d get away without sitting with both did you?). Her requests had reached such a fever pitch that I realized that I was going to have to get there some time this week. Yesterday I wanted to have my free 5 hours to myself (to rake, what a moron I am) so I told her that Marty and I would come today.
What is wrong with me?
Here are a few tips for people who want to go to lunch with their children:
Today we had an unannounced and unnamed hurricane. For now I will not contemplate what it did to my raking job of yesterday. Instead, I will only mention the huge lakes and streams it produced in areas that were formerly known as parking lots and sidewalks. Oh, and the wind that shook the car and threatened to yank everything I was carrying (including Marty) and deposit it into one of the new bodies of water.
Marty and I went to Subway for 3 overpriced (and ultimately undereaten) children’s meals to take with us to school. We slogged our way to the office and signed in, and then found Lauren and sat down to eat. I attempted to start some witty conversation, but Lauren immediately interrupted:
Lauren: I don’t like juice boxes
Mommy: Well, why don’t you go get some milk then?
Lauren: Come with me
Mommy: No because then we’ll have to take Marty and he doesn’t like the noise as it is. Try his juice box. Maybe you’ll like it.
Lauren: I don’t like juice boxes. The first grade is leaving, now it’s not as noisy. You can carry Marty and I’ll hold his hand and he’ll be fine.
Mommy: There are a lot of people in line
Lauren: Please, please can we go get milk? Please, Mommy, I really don’t like juice boxes (note to readers: insert your own variation of these phrases and repeat until hoarse)
Mommy: All right, let’s go
Ten agonizing minutes later we were back at the table for lunch. Marty had had enough of the cafeteria and Lauren was ignoring her sandwich to eat the lettuce discarded from Marty’s sandwich. Against my plans for being the nice mommy at school, I had to lower the boom and demand regular eating. Eventually they got into the swing of things and we all had a nice lunch.
After lunch Marty and I went to walk with Lauren back to her classroom (lookee here, another bad idea). Her teacher had to run to her car and asked me if I’d walk the kids back. As soon as the teacher turned her back the little Kindergarten boys started smacking each other in the back and trying to knock each other over. I hate watching other people’s kids. Before we managed to disentangle ourselves from the Kindergarten, the principal came over the PA system to tell everyone who had not eaten lunch yet to go to the cafeteria, get lunch, and then return to their classrooms. So when Marty and I got back to the cafeteria, all of the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th graders were making their way in too.
Marty loved that.
No, actually he didn’t. I’m no expert, but having half of the school report to the cafeteria at the same time does not seem like an efficient or sensible thing to do. Then again, I’m not a professional administrator. Apparently the logic was that if the power went out due to all the wind, some kids might not get lunch, but if all of the kids were crowded into the cafeteria when the power went out, somehow they would all get lunch.
I’ll try not to drag out this tale any longer. We finally met up with Aislinn and went to her room to sit with her while she ate. All of the girls were saying how cute Marty was, so he immediately began to cry. Once he calmed down and the girls started to ignore him, he launched into a song and dance routine, now oblivious to everyone staring at him.
We slogged back to the car, buckled up, and cranked up the Cars soundtrack. The whole ordeal took a little over 2 hours, but it finished me for the day. Marty got to watch a lot of TV and I sat and read Sunday’s paper.
Next time we’ll … check that. Next time I’ll send Daddy instead.
What is wrong with me?
Here are a few tips for people who want to go to lunch with their children:
Don’t bring the little brother who would much rather be at home playing circus train and eating powdered donuts than sitting in a noisy cafeteria eating a turkey sandwich.
If you must bring the little brother, make sure it is not raining.
If it is raining and you must bring the little brother, bring a little wine in your water bottle.
Today we had an unannounced and unnamed hurricane. For now I will not contemplate what it did to my raking job of yesterday. Instead, I will only mention the huge lakes and streams it produced in areas that were formerly known as parking lots and sidewalks. Oh, and the wind that shook the car and threatened to yank everything I was carrying (including Marty) and deposit it into one of the new bodies of water.
Marty and I went to Subway for 3 overpriced (and ultimately undereaten) children’s meals to take with us to school. We slogged our way to the office and signed in, and then found Lauren and sat down to eat. I attempted to start some witty conversation, but Lauren immediately interrupted:
Lauren: I don’t like juice boxes
Mommy: Well, why don’t you go get some milk then?
Lauren: Come with me
Mommy: No because then we’ll have to take Marty and he doesn’t like the noise as it is. Try his juice box. Maybe you’ll like it.
Lauren: I don’t like juice boxes. The first grade is leaving, now it’s not as noisy. You can carry Marty and I’ll hold his hand and he’ll be fine.
Mommy: There are a lot of people in line
Lauren: Please, please can we go get milk? Please, Mommy, I really don’t like juice boxes (note to readers: insert your own variation of these phrases and repeat until hoarse)
Mommy: All right, let’s go
Ten agonizing minutes later we were back at the table for lunch. Marty had had enough of the cafeteria and Lauren was ignoring her sandwich to eat the lettuce discarded from Marty’s sandwich. Against my plans for being the nice mommy at school, I had to lower the boom and demand regular eating. Eventually they got into the swing of things and we all had a nice lunch.
After lunch Marty and I went to walk with Lauren back to her classroom (lookee here, another bad idea). Her teacher had to run to her car and asked me if I’d walk the kids back. As soon as the teacher turned her back the little Kindergarten boys started smacking each other in the back and trying to knock each other over. I hate watching other people’s kids. Before we managed to disentangle ourselves from the Kindergarten, the principal came over the PA system to tell everyone who had not eaten lunch yet to go to the cafeteria, get lunch, and then return to their classrooms. So when Marty and I got back to the cafeteria, all of the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th graders were making their way in too.
Marty loved that.
No, actually he didn’t. I’m no expert, but having half of the school report to the cafeteria at the same time does not seem like an efficient or sensible thing to do. Then again, I’m not a professional administrator. Apparently the logic was that if the power went out due to all the wind, some kids might not get lunch, but if all of the kids were crowded into the cafeteria when the power went out, somehow they would all get lunch.
I’ll try not to drag out this tale any longer. We finally met up with Aislinn and went to her room to sit with her while she ate. All of the girls were saying how cute Marty was, so he immediately began to cry. Once he calmed down and the girls started to ignore him, he launched into a song and dance routine, now oblivious to everyone staring at him.
We slogged back to the car, buckled up, and cranked up the Cars soundtrack. The whole ordeal took a little over 2 hours, but it finished me for the day. Marty got to watch a lot of TV and I sat and read Sunday’s paper.
Next time we’ll … check that. Next time I’ll send Daddy instead.
posted by Shannon at 11:38 PM
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