It turns out that Sunday is the 30th Anniversary of my son's school. And the parent committee is taking it very seriously. You would think the Pope was coming for a visit the way they've been scheming, scrambling and highlighting notes. They have worked so hard to prepare for the big festival that I'm kind of wishing I'd been here all 30 years to truly be "in" on this whole thing.
The funny thing about parenting is the different theories that people subscribe to. There are the moms who are amazing never-ending sources of support for every kid activity out there. These parents are wonderful and they're clearly needed for these kind of events.
My cousin recently posted something on her Facebook wall about what a wonderful organization the PTA is. But because I'm "the other kind" of parent, I spontaneously threw up in my mouth a little bit. Moms like me don't join the Parent-Teacher stuff. Moms like me don't care about crepe paper or coordinating a charity drive.
Don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't want to help, or I don't want nice things for the community. And I most certainly do want to be involved in my child's education. I just want to know how much I need to give for whatever, where I'm supposed to sign, and what time I'm supposed to be where they tell me.
I don't want to make the decisions, I don't want to fight with other mothers, and I can't take the responsibility of being the one who makes sure there's enough chairs for the grandparents to be seated during the singing program. Even typing that sentence makes my blood pressure skyrocket.
So every once in awhile, to make up for the horrible slacker that I am, I make a grand sweeping gesture that takes many hours, but leaves the place a little better than how I found it.
The irony of this project is that as a foreigner, I didn't know which building was the kindergarten when I first came here. So even though this wall was a lumpy un-even horrible nightmare to try and spray-paint, and even though I had to fend off a couple dozen German children heckling me as I worked, I am proud that the place is now clearly marked as the village kindergarten.
And the cake? Special delivered by none other than a member of the school's parent committee! Bless those other kind of mothers! Did I eat all three pieces? Damn straight! Rest assured I'm doing my part to find common ground between the mother camps...