As I was walking into school today, I heard yelling. It’s not an uncommon occurence in the neighborhood, but as I got closer to the school, I was surprised to see our secretary standing in the doorway, vigorously waving and calling out to a mom. Mom had dropped her son off AN HOUR AND A HALF EARLY. Apparently, it was her plan to just let him sit there, coolin’ his jets (literally, it was 35 degrees when I got to school this morning) ’til school opened. She was hightailin’ it down the sidewalk when the secretary stepped out of the office to tell her (kindly, yet firmly) that school didn’t open for 90 minutes and she couldn’t just leave him sitting there outside and there was no one to supervise him. (Yet another parent who thinks school is daycare and teachers are babysitters, no doubt. Grrrrrrrr.)
So, Mom goes back and drags her son to the car, muttering under her breath the whole way. I was coming up the walk as she was eyeballing me. I was wondering what she would say. When I got close enough, she said, “Hey, ain’t you his teacher?” I WANTED to say Are you KIDDING me??? It’s DECEMBER FIRST! We’ve been in school for TWELVE WEEKS now! Shouldn’t you KNOW who your kid’s teacher is?!?!?!?!? Instead, I just chirped, No, Ma’am! and continued on my way.
Good grief. Another candidate for parent of the year.
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