I brought doughnuts to my son’s pre-school today. Look, I know this delightful pastry doesn’t fall into one of the four food groups. (There are four right?) I also brought milk. In my opinion that cancels out the junk food. Honestly, I forgot it was my turn. I didn’t have time to get to a store.
The school assigns a child to be the “leader” each day of the month. Basically, they bribe you. ‘We will give your son a title for the day if you feed the children.’ The kids look forward to this day for weeks. It means they get to stand in the front of the line, lead the class in songs and pass out napkins during snack time. Wouldn’t it be great if that defined success in adulthood?
We arrived a little early and sat in the hallway waiting for the teacher to open the door. This lady doesn’t want to take these kids a minute early. Teachers aren’t paid as much as they should be. Pre-school teachers are paid less and given false hope that they will one day be hired in the district. It doesn’t make much sense to me. A teacher’s job is one of the most important and some garbage men make more. I digress.
Anyway, as we patiently waited for school to begin another mother noticed the box of doughnuts resting on my son’s lap. “Wow that’s quite a sweet treat for snack time,” she said in a condescending Martha Stewart like tone. “When my daughter was the leader I hallowed out apples and scooped peanut butter in each one. Then, I cut the apple pieces in slices. The kids had so much fun dipping them.” I could feel my face burning with rage. I grinned and said, “I wish I had that much time on my hands.” This lady also had time to French Braid her hair this morning. This isn’t France or 1984.