To: Parents
From: JDixon
Date: 9/21
Subject: Hello? Did anyone read my last email?
Dear Miss Ward’s class,
Shocked? Appalled? No, “disappointed” best describes my feelings after the less than adequate response to my call for help. Only two people got back to me. Sasha Lewicki, sending an out-of-office autoreply, was the first, with an impressive turnaround time of 11 seconds. And Jackie Westman stopped me in the parking lot to say she’d bring cups. Listen, people, we are going to be in that classroom for TWO HOURS. Don’t you think we’re at least going to need water, to say nothing of alcohol? So get your fingers on the keyboard and start volunteering to bring stuff pronto.
Geez!
Jennifer
P.S. Response times will be noted.
I click Send. This is the part of being class mom I hate the most—begging people to do stuff for the classroom. Everyone always thinks someone else is going to volunteer, and the class mom gets stuck with all of it.
“Well, not this time, my little kindergarten parenteers,” I say to my reflection in the computer screen. “This is the year I shame you all into participating. Mwa ha ha!”
“Are you talking to yourself again?”
I jumped at the unexpected sound of my husband’s voice.
“What are you doing here? I thought the Dixon men were going to tough it out in the backyard.”
“We were until a squirrel jumped on top of the tent. Max freaked out, so I brought him in.”
I could see Ron’s disappointment.
“He’s in his bed?”
“Fast asleep. And look at us. Ten p.m., and nothing to do.”
He saunters over to where I’m sitting on the bed with my computer.
“Who says I have nothing to do?”
Ron takes my computer and puts it on the dresser.
“I do,” he says as he leans in for a kiss. “I want to see what Garth’s thirty bucks an hour is getting me.”
“Well, not much yet except for a bag of sore muscles.” I dodge his kiss and roll to the other side of the bed. Ron follows me.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“What does it look like?” He stalks me across the bed.
“It looks like you’re not getting the hint,” I snipe back.
He sits up with a mix of hurt and curiosity on his face.
“What’s wrong?”
That’s actually a good question. My handsome husband wants to have sex with me and I’m being kind of a bitch. But here’s the thing. I was really looking forward to this night. I adore Ron, but sometimes it’s nice to have a little break. I was so juiced up to be all alone in our Cali-king bed—no one beside me snoring or stealing the blankets. And now it’s not happening and I’m pissed off. No, I’m disappointed, but it reads the same as pissed off sometimes.
“I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all.” I know my explanation is weak.
“You weren’t expecting me?” He pushes himself off the bed. “Would you rather I go back out to the tent?”
Well, actually I would, I think but do not say. Instead, I get up and walk to the door.
“I’m going to check on Max.”
As I leave, even I am wondering where the hell that all came from.
To: Parents
From: JDixon
Date: 9/23
Subject: Well done
Dear Miss Ward’s class,
Thank you so much for finally responding to my call for help. Who knew so many of you have “special” brownie recipes?
Okay, this is how it is going to shake out.
Mini quiches—Dixons, Elders
Cheese platter—Changs (please include crackers)
Veggie platter—Wolffes
Wine—Batons (who are French so we’re expecting some good stuff)
Cookies—Kaplans
Sparkling and flat water—Zalis
Brownies—Fancys
Plates/napkins—Aikenses
Cups—Westmans
The rest of you are off the hook for this party but don’t suppose a slow response time is going to get you out of supplying snacks at some point.
Please drop everything off BEFORE 6:30 on curriculum night. Miss Ward wants it all out before her presentation starts.
Okay. That’s it. Move along.
xo
P.S. Response times were weak, people, WEAK! I’m not going to embarrass everyone by posting them THIS TIME. Just know I’m keeping a list. A list you really don’t want to be on.
* * *
I look at my watch and realize I have exactly four minutes until Garth is ten minutes early for our workout. I like how consistent he is. As I turn to get my workout clothes on, I’m reminded of how hard he worked me in our last session. Everything hurts just a little bit. Not enough to debilitate me, but enough that I’m aware of what my body has been doing. It’s as though Curves never even happened for me! I intend to write them a strongly worded letter about their false promises.
I’m a little on edge, because tonight is parents’ night at school. It’s my first face-to-face as class mom, and I’m nervous. I know I’ve done it before, but this time it’s different. This time I actually give a crap what the other parents think of me. Don’t ask me why, but I do. Oh, to once again be twenty-six and so full of your own sense of what is right that you can give a virtual finger to the establishment.
The doorbell interrupts my thoughts and I run down to let Garth in.
* * *
“What has gotten into you today?” Garth enthuses as I complete yet another set of burpees.
I shrug. “Nervous energy, I guess.” I’m really in a zone.
“What are you nervous about?”
“It’s curriculum night at my son’s school.”
“So?” says Garth. Clearly he has never been to one.
“Well…” I start.
“Tell me while you’re doing crunches,” Garth suggests.
I get down on the mat on my back. Garth is sitting on the big exercise ball. I start to do my ab work.
“It’s just that I sent out an email at the start of the school year and it was supposed to be funny but I guess it confused and offended some people. Things like that didn’t used to bother me but now they do.” I’m basically grunting out my explanation as I crunch my core.
“Eighteen, nineteen, twenty. Okay, rest. Why does it bother you now?” Garth asks from the ball.
I lie there and think for a minute. “Well, I guess—”
“Tell your story crunching,” he interrupts.
“Jesus, okay!” I grunt. “I guess I care more now because of Ron. When Vivs and Laura were small and I was a single mom, I think I felt I had something to prove. I was also young and stupid.” I flop to my back.
“One more set, but take thirty,” Garth says.
I roll on my side and look up at him.
“I realize now that the things I do and say and write have a direct reflection on Ron and Max, too. I didn’t really think about Vivs and Laura when I was waging war against the world. But I’m starting to see why they were always upset with me.”
“Sounds like you’re growing up,” Garth says, with more than a bit of wisdom in his words.
“About time, I guess.” I smile and start crunching.