Feel You Better?

As is typical amongst the almost-three set, my son has a bit of Jekyll & Hyde syndrome. The same kid that barrels into me from behind and bites my ass so hard it makes a mark right through my jeans can also be decidedly lovable. As quickly as his assault comes on, he follows me into the bathroom, cocks his head to the side and says sweetly, "I so sorry, mommy. I so sorry." His ultimate gesture of goodwill is the offering of his beloved blanket, which is his comfort-equivalent of my bowl of ice cream. The effectiveness of the blankie is gauged by his query of, "Feel you better?"

Of course I feel better, you mommy-abusing brown-eyed angel, you! Give mommy a kiss, my sweet boy! It's not healthy, I know. He treats me so bad, and yet I stay...but what's a girl to do when she's so in love?

Speaking of that vast, illogical sentiment that is parental love and pride, I recently attended the parent/teacher conference at my daughter's school. While waiting outside the classroom, I perused the binders put together to display the first graders' work. I couldn't help but compare my daughter's writing and drawing to that of her classmates. I knew it was wrong when I silently lamented Trevor's awkward depiction of a day at the beach. Was it just me, or were my daughter's answers to questions about favorites foods and summer vacations much more witty and articulate than that of her peers? I swear I never thought I'd be that mother.

When it was my turn, I sat across the little table from the first grade teacher and listened attentively to Mrs. W's assessment of Maddie's reading and 'riting and 'rithmetic. All good. Okay, I swear I'm not being obnoxious about this and have really only shared with the grandparents. And aunts and uncles, and maybe possibly a few close friends. But I just have to say it here. She's reading at a fifth grade level. There. My kid is smart and that makes me happy. So sue me. And if you must, take comfort in the fact that in the behavioral department we did not fare so well. Evidently, my daughter is also aware that she is smart and has informed the teacher that she is not learning anything and she already knows everything. And don't mind if I just work off my own little agenda here while you go ahead with that teaching stuff up there in the front of the room...

So there was, of course, some discussion about these things: both her behavior and the question of her being academically challenged. And things were going well with the first grade teacher and me.

And then I farted. Right there in the little first grade chair, in the silence of the brightly decorated first grade room, filled with only me. And the first grade teacher.

I share this only because I know...I am among friends. And I know...that your first instinct will, of course, be to share in my unimaginable horror. We both ignored the fart, Mrs. W. and me. I shifted a bit in the chair, attempting to make some squeak or scrape that could explain the sound. But as she went on explaining the intricacies of the accelerated learner software, we both knew what had happpened.

Okay, I was kidding about sharing my horror. You may now laugh uncontrollably. Because I will forever be to Mrs. W. "that mom that farted at the parent/teacher conference."

Did you need a laugh? Were you feeling down? Feel you better?

Comments

[Cat, Galloping]

I actually did have a good laugh. Which actually made A pause the TV, but somehow when I tried to relay the story I just sounded like a 6-year-old boy laughing about a fart. But I *did* need a laugh, so thanks! :)

And congratulations on having a brilliant daughter.

[SarcastiCarrie]

If you ever need a laugh and don't want Kristine to doom her child to a life of social ostracism, please think of the capital of Saskatchewan. It's Regina. Regina Regina Regina...rhymes with, errr, something or other. Regina.

[Jill]

I will add this to my list of things I am afraid of doing at a parent/teacher conference.

[carosgram]

I was LMAO but that caused me to "pass wind" while reading this post Please excuse my gauche behavior.

[Julia]

Oh, thank you, you dear, sweet, flatulent woman! Man, did I need that.

[nikki]

Flatulence is always hilarious. In every situation.