Todays Mom Tears™ are brought to you by “I thought I was the worst mom in the world” and “Wow, you were hoodwinked”
Sounds of kids bantering coming through the door after school can be delightful and somewhat terrifying. Let’s face it, if you beat them home then those few nano minutes are golden, even though a sweat is breaking out across your brow ‘cause the silence feels so good and your brief flirtation with it is already being missed.
Today was no different, except instead of the usual chatter (noise) was a point blank comment “You did not pack me a lunch” (Please re-read the last sentence with as much disdain as possible and a look of sheer disgust on your face.) I immediately felt horrible and responded sheepishly “Yes, I did…..” But then I was reassured that I did not. This child, who shall remain nameless, began to unpack their school bag – which contained a lunch bag. I was then told, as said lunch bag was being unpacked, that the teacher gave this nameless child Tim Hortons.
Once the lunch box was opened and its contents were laying out for all to see, I almost lost my mind! It still had an uneaten apple, a bag of carrots, and a fruit cup. Missing from the bag was a granola bar, bear paws, and gummy things that claim to be packed with fruit but are mostly gelatin and we do not want to discuss what that’s made of …again. When I began pelting this kid whom I love with fiery hot questions such as “Why didn’t you eat the rest of what I packed you???” I was told I forgot a sandwich.
Disclaimer: I did pay for a school trip, and I had forgotten the trip was on this particular day – which also happens to be pizza day. So, in my defense, I had assumed the child would have pizza. The day prior and the one before that and a few before that, sandwiches were returned home with a mere bite or two out of them. The replies to my questions were simple. “There was no time to eat” (Please re-read the last sentence with as much disdain as possible and a look of sheer disgust on your face eye roll may be added if you so choose.) Again, I noted – perhaps even named – the food left uneaten . . .
My young offspring started at me without a word. Dead. Silence. She was so quiet I could hear the crickets chirping outside.
To the kind and generous teacher who gave her own food to this child, I thank you. It is wonderful to be part of such a caring school community: may your example of giving effortlessly be seen by the young minds you mold. But this time, perhaps you were hoodwinked by sad blue eyes, a quivering lip and an angelic voice claiming near starvation.