Meeting the teacher

No, this is not another post from an 18 year-old, dramatic college student, re-telling the painful, trite and self absorbed world of college life. I would have blogged about that subject matter when I was at the university. No no, I had the delightful opportunity to meet my daughter's 1st grade teacher this evening at "back to school night." First off, the only make up she wore, (not against not wearing make up, or on the appearance of teachers) was heavy black eye liner, smudged over each upper and lower lid giving the appearance of two black eyes. Can you already tell that I don't like this woman? Then, if you watched her speak, and stand when the other teacher was speaking, she twitched, snorted, and rubbed her nose like a meth addict. (I happen to personally know one or two) Her mannerisms and, I've now apparently learned, her methods, seem a bit wacky. "Please don't bring cupcakes and sweets to school for your children's birthdays, all that sugar isn't good for the kids." I have a better idea, let the kids have some God Damn sweets every once in a while! They're kids, that's what they like to eat. If the children were being fed correctly at home, maybe they could have a fucking cupcake. "I redesigned the weekly progress reports and made them more complicated," she slipped. "I don't mean more complicated, I meant more complete." Oh no, her Freudian slip was right, it is definitely more complicated. I wanted to love my kid's teachers. After all, this teacher is teaching MY daughter. So she tells us to make sure the kids are in comfortable sports shoes for P.E. day. Okay, so I ask the question, "when is their P.E. day?" She's clasping her hands, "Uh Wednesday." She looked like she forgot what P.E. meant when I asked. I glanced at one of the handouts I received. It states they have P.E. twice a week. Hmmmm... I think we may be experiencing uncomfortable parent-teacher conferences.