and so it begins (m)

Another school year starts.

Monday night...Meet the Deans.  My husband says we both should go.  I don't think either of us has to go.  He guilts me into attending this snoozefest.

As I sat there in the audience packed with parents, I thought back to my own school experience.  In the combined twelve years of grammar school and high school, I think my mother was at my school once per year to discuss my performance.  She came home muttering "waste of time." Why?  Because there were no issues.  Great grades, great kid they would say.  Some other parents might have been pleased.

 My father was there only once in twelve years...Graduation Day from high school.  He had to work nights when I was in the school play, in a lead role.  I know he meant it when he said, "I'm sorry I couldn't go."

Somehow, without all this parental involvement, I managed to get an education and go on to the college of my choice.

By stark contrast, most parents attended last night's event.  They took copious notes, nodded vigorously at non-insightful comments, laughed loudly at lame jokes, sucked up big time to the Deans at the reception.

And I?  I surveyed the dessert table.  Dark, fudgy brownies.  Homemade chocolate chip cookies, oatmeal cookies (without raisins),  blueberry cake.  I had a 3-point sandwich for dinner (turkey, Arnold's flat bread, lettuce and mustard).  The brownies were calling me.  They looked phenomenal.  I grabbed a cup of green tea and got cornered by a mother (whom I didn't recognize but who recognized me) who droned on about her trip with her daughter to Costa Rica where they did community service all summer. No toilets.  No running water.  "You should go sometime," she said.  I didn't even respond.

More people, more conversation that didn't interest me.   I was getting bored and annoyed.  That's a trigger for me to eat.  I know the warning signs.  The brownies were calling loudly this time.

And then, just as I was headed back toward the desserts, I saw it: a bowl of grapes and strawberries.  Like a mirage in a desert.  I grabbed some of each. 

When I was done with my fruit, I left.

I had had enough.