Yesterday I dropped my daughter off for her first day of first grade. It was an emotional, moving, tearful experience….for the teachers and a few parents. As I looked around at my fellow parents I noticed a few stereotypes popping up to say hi.
First I see the woman clutching her chest because her babay is growin’ up so faaa-aast. This is the women using her spit and a tissue from her purse to wipe the milk from the corners of her fifth graders mouth.
|This is what the military uses to|
stop a gunshot victim from bleeding
out on the floor of their Humvee.
Next I see the dad laying down a layer of foam padding in a six foot diameter around his third grader. This is the parent who packs his kid's backpack with Band-Aids, Neosporin, Ace bandages, instant ice packs, Quick-Clot, mace, a stun gun, and a .45, you know, for safety.
Then we have the mom sucking down her third Venti espresso but she still doesn’t have the energy to change out of her pajamas. This is the mom who drops her kid off on the corner because the line at Starbucks is really long and she doesn’t want them to run out of the cinnamon muffin, again. This mom is often seen sporting the big bug eye sunglasses to hide the bags under her eyes and owns more velour track suits than J-Lo and Snooki combined.
Finally we have the jubilant parent. This is the parent who celebrates the first day of school. This is the parent who has been running mock drills for the past week to make sure their kid gets out the door on time. This is the parent who shoots fireworks off in the back yard to celebrate a new year. This is the parent who relishes the time she has without her children. This is the stereotype I fall into.
While all of these parents have their positives and negatives I think they are all good parents. The woman with the case of the vapors will always be there to wipe the spittle off her kids’ chins. Even if they’re in graduate school. The overprotective dad will never have a daughter with an abusive boyfriend because anyone who dares breathe the same air as his princess is rotting under the floorboards of his house. The lazy mom’s kids become self-sufficient caffeine addicts by the time their eight and can run a multi-national mega-conglomerate before they graduate from high school. The jubilant parent’s kids will learn that it’s the small victories that make life worth living and celebrating them is a good thing. Naturally all these kids will require years of therapy for one thing or another and will spend the entire time complaining that you weren’t there when Timmy pushed them off the swing. To those kids I have this to say, “BUCK UP CUPCAKE! THE WORLD DOESN’T REVOLVE AROUND YOU!!”