I went to the elementary school last week to do my Motherly duty of requesting a special teacher for Baby's next year at school. I asked the secretary for a form.
"How many do you need?"
"One." I didn't feel the need to populate the earth all by myself.
She handed me a half sheet of paper on which I wrote Baby's name. Then as I went to fill in the two blanks for a teacher next year I chickened out. I had all intentions of putting the same name on the two lines meant for two different teachers. But then I decided I'm not well known to the employees at the school and that might make them angry and then we wouldn't get our first choice. We love this teacher and both the other boys had her in 4th grade and I'm praying every day that Baby will get her next year also. But then since I chickened out I had to come up with a Plan B.
So I politely interrupted the other Mom doing her Motherly Duty for her apparently four children attending the elementary school next year to see if I could look at the teacher list. She was deep in conversation with the secretary about her children's personalities and which teacher would be best for each child. She handed me the list without skipping a beat.
I scanned the list and looked at the rest of the paper. It not only had all the teachers but the school schedule; starting times, ending times, lunch times, and recess times. I gasped.
"School starts at 8:25?"
The other Mother looked over at me. "Yes. It used to start at 9, but it was changed a few years ago."
"Yeah, they changed it to 8:30. When did they change it to 8:25?"
"That's a good thing to know before the school year is out. We put a vote to the parents to change it back to 9 but people voted for the earlier time."
Oh, apparently this Mother is not only an overly-involved Mother but a member of the highly esteemed, much coveted, extremely exclusive PTA. The PTA at the elementary school is akin to a high-class Sorority, of which I will never be included, much less invited to any of its functions.
For a person who sits in the back of the class, rarely speaks, prefers anonymity, I have a habit of choosing the wrong moment to open my mouth.