03 August 2018
Story #922
R. Linda:
There was a get-together at the school for the new kindergarten class. Tonya was thrilled about this; she thought it was a great idea to get parents, students and teachers together to meet before the new school session began. The only problem was that, being a teacher herself, she was spending the week in conferences, so she couldn't be the one to take our youngest to the get-together. Mam had volunteered, but at the last minute she wrenched her shoulder and couldn't attend. Guess who went? Yes, me, lucky me!
Everything started off great. I knew most of the parents and kiddos, so I felt very relaxed being there, and the young kiddo was having a ball being reunited with friends he hadn't seen since preschool let out.
The kindergarten teacher is new this year, so I have not met her. Well, R. Linda, she was one of those tall, thin sticks of a woman, with dark hair in a messy bun, wearing a nondescript dark skirt and blouse. When she smiled, she seemed to have cracks all over her nondescript face.
At one point, I had been forced, as other parents, to sit nearly on the floor in a kindergarten chair that made me look like Jiminy Cricket crammed into a box. Me knees were over me head and me feet sticking out in opposing directions. Not to mention that I was back against the thick slats of the chair, which was making me even more uncomfortable than the thoughts of how on earth I was to get up again.
Anyway, while I was struggling with the discomfort and the thoughts that I'd need to call the fire department to get me out of the chair, Ms. Malrony, the teacher, bent down and said to me, "You are Albert's father?"
I was taken aback. Who the heck is Albert? I looked behind her and pointed at the blond-haired tyke that was mine and said, "No, that's me kiddo, his name is . . . " And that is as far as I got, as she looked behind her and stood up out of earshot. She coolly assessed the laughing four-year-old who was giving monkey pinches to his friend.
"OH," she said, looking down her nose at him. "I was told about HIM."
If I could have got up, I would have confronted her with What do you mean you were told about HIM? But I was wedged in the seat, so that was quite impossible unless I shouted, and then the whole room would be in on the conversation, which my gut feeling was telling me wasn't going to be a good one.
She left me squirming to get out of the chair and walked over to me kiddo, and said, "Now you know better than to do that. Stop right now and go sit over there and think about the next time you want to pinch someone."
THAT had me. I crab walked with the chair stuck to me butt to go over and give her a piece of me mind. The kiddos had all been monkey pinching each other, and for me kiddo to be the only one put in time out, well, really!
She moved off once he was seated in a corner of the room, the furthest corner from where I was still crab walking after her. She kept moving around, and I tried to get to her, but for the awkward position. Several mothers came over to try to help me out of the chair, their husbands all being in the same position as I was. Finally, with the help of three moms, I was able to escape the wooden prison called a child's chair. I tell ya!
Ms. Malrony was busy chatting with other parents, and I wanted to interrupt her. Still, one of the conversations was about a parent's concern over a learning disorder that ran in her family, which she wanted the teacher to be aware of ahead of the session. Well, I couldn't interrupt that, so I walked over to me sad kiddo and made the colossal mistake of pulling up another pint sized chair and re-wedging me big self in it.
I told him it was ok and asked him if he wanted to get up and mingle with his friends, to which he perked right up.
"Ok then, you go and do that," I said as he ran off.
Well, that move did not go unnoticed. Ms. Malrony saw him bolt out of the chair from the corner of her evil eye, and she excused herself from the current conversation on the other side of the room to come over to me and bend down.
Shaking a long finger in me face, she said, "Now, Mr. O'Sullivan, do you really want to encourage that kind of behaviour? Another five minutes and your son would have been allowed to re-enter the meet. I am gauging behaviours, Mr. O'Sullivan, and I certainly hope YOUR son isn't going to be trouble. I want this year to be special."
Oh boy! Ask me if I was not boiling inside. Ask me if I didn't want to stick Ms. Malrony's butt in that little chair forever. Ask me if I wanted to give her a piece of me mind. Ask me if I then and there wanted to pull me kiddo out of her class. The answer to all is a resounding YES I DID!
But she continued as I began to open me piehole to read her the O'Sully riot act.
"Now, Mr. O'Sullivan, I am going to ask you to NOT override any instructions I give to the children here. Do you think you can do that?"
This was said to me as if I were a three-year-old. Much like you talk to an uncomprehending child, or worse, a dog.
Me eyes were coals, I was sure, as I made to get up to me full six feet three inches and stand over her sorry arse, letting the O'Sully riot act burst forth, but for the fact that I forgot what I was sitting in and couldn't get up to intimidation height. Jayus, what was I thinking? I made a right show of struggling in the chair and grunting, where I was suddenly surrounded by the same three moms who helped me the first time. They were laughing, R. Linda, they were totally unaware of the situation, and that made me predicament even worse. I tell ya!
Ms. Malrony suggested, "Next time, sit on the edge of a table so this doesn't happen." Caroline Beal's mouth gaped open in astounded surprise at Malrony's parting shot. And Malrony had walked off. They got me out, but by then, Ms. Malrony was back to the conversation about the learning disability. I was left standing there with Rita Holmes giggling that she would have to tell Tonya how I got wedged in a small chair TWICE, and Caroline patting me on the back, telling me I was "no worse for the experience." Jessica Twombly told me to sit down and patted the table next to me, taking Ms. Malrony's suggestion as the only recourse after I stood. That was not a good suggestion because that is precisely what I did as I waited for Ms. Malrony, the riot act still ready to spew forth. And as I sat on the edge of the table, Dan Crenley got up from the pint-sized chair at the other end, where he had been leaning on the table for balance as he struggled to get out of the chair. When he let go, the table went over with me on it!
Okay, go ahead and laugh. Ms. Malrony looked over, as if to say, 'What are you doing now to disrupt the meeting?' Rita was in gales of laughter, trying not to laugh, but gales it was. I wasn't hurt, just me pride. Dan had come running around the table to get me on my feet, as everyone, and I mean everyone, including the kiddos, came to see if I had hurt meself or worse, in Ms. Malrony's opinion, broken the table!
As you can imagine, the O'Sully riot act went out the window, it did. I took me kiddo and me injured pride and went home, where I discovered me lower back was black and blue where I fell. Yeah, so I be home with me Mam tending to me injuries, the kiddo oblivious to me attempt to stick up for him, and well, I have a lot to think about. Like, do I tell Tonya what a fool I made of meself? Do I tell her our kiddo has a stormtrooper for a kindergarten teacher? Do I go in privately and have a "chat" with Ms. Malrony? Or do I play it by ear and say nothing?
I be nursing me injured pride right now. Also, nursing be Sean waiting on me hand and foot. I told him I took a spill on a slippery slope, and he bought it. Sean's bustling around, waiting on me, has given me some secret satisfaction. I know I shouldn't take out me anger on him, but he just happens to be number two on me O'Sully get even with list. We know who be number one. Yeah sure, "Sit on the edge of the table, Mr. O'Sullivan," (said in a sarcastic falsetto right to me face). I TELL YA!
Gabe
Copyright © 2018 All rights reserved
Story #922
R. Linda:
There was a get-together at the school for the new kindergarten class. Tonya was thrilled about this; she thought it was a great idea to get parents, students and teachers together to meet before the new school session began. The only problem was that, being a teacher herself, she was spending the week in conferences, so she couldn't be the one to take our youngest to the get-together. Mam had volunteered, but at the last minute she wrenched her shoulder and couldn't attend. Guess who went? Yes, me, lucky me!
Everything started off great. I knew most of the parents and kiddos, so I felt very relaxed being there, and the young kiddo was having a ball being reunited with friends he hadn't seen since preschool let out.
The kindergarten teacher is new this year, so I have not met her. Well, R. Linda, she was one of those tall, thin sticks of a woman, with dark hair in a messy bun, wearing a nondescript dark skirt and blouse. When she smiled, she seemed to have cracks all over her nondescript face.
At one point, I had been forced, as other parents, to sit nearly on the floor in a kindergarten chair that made me look like Jiminy Cricket crammed into a box. Me knees were over me head and me feet sticking out in opposing directions. Not to mention that I was back against the thick slats of the chair, which was making me even more uncomfortable than the thoughts of how on earth I was to get up again.
Anyway, while I was struggling with the discomfort and the thoughts that I'd need to call the fire department to get me out of the chair, Ms. Malrony, the teacher, bent down and said to me, "You are Albert's father?"
I was taken aback. Who the heck is Albert? I looked behind her and pointed at the blond-haired tyke that was mine and said, "No, that's me kiddo, his name is . . . " And that is as far as I got, as she looked behind her and stood up out of earshot. She coolly assessed the laughing four-year-old who was giving monkey pinches to his friend.
"OH," she said, looking down her nose at him. "I was told about HIM."
If I could have got up, I would have confronted her with What do you mean you were told about HIM? But I was wedged in the seat, so that was quite impossible unless I shouted, and then the whole room would be in on the conversation, which my gut feeling was telling me wasn't going to be a good one.
She left me squirming to get out of the chair and walked over to me kiddo, and said, "Now you know better than to do that. Stop right now and go sit over there and think about the next time you want to pinch someone."
THAT had me. I crab walked with the chair stuck to me butt to go over and give her a piece of me mind. The kiddos had all been monkey pinching each other, and for me kiddo to be the only one put in time out, well, really!
She moved off once he was seated in a corner of the room, the furthest corner from where I was still crab walking after her. She kept moving around, and I tried to get to her, but for the awkward position. Several mothers came over to try to help me out of the chair, their husbands all being in the same position as I was. Finally, with the help of three moms, I was able to escape the wooden prison called a child's chair. I tell ya!
Ms. Malrony was busy chatting with other parents, and I wanted to interrupt her. Still, one of the conversations was about a parent's concern over a learning disorder that ran in her family, which she wanted the teacher to be aware of ahead of the session. Well, I couldn't interrupt that, so I walked over to me sad kiddo and made the colossal mistake of pulling up another pint sized chair and re-wedging me big self in it.
I told him it was ok and asked him if he wanted to get up and mingle with his friends, to which he perked right up.
"Ok then, you go and do that," I said as he ran off.
Well, that move did not go unnoticed. Ms. Malrony saw him bolt out of the chair from the corner of her evil eye, and she excused herself from the current conversation on the other side of the room to come over to me and bend down.
Shaking a long finger in me face, she said, "Now, Mr. O'Sullivan, do you really want to encourage that kind of behaviour? Another five minutes and your son would have been allowed to re-enter the meet. I am gauging behaviours, Mr. O'Sullivan, and I certainly hope YOUR son isn't going to be trouble. I want this year to be special."
Oh boy! Ask me if I was not boiling inside. Ask me if I didn't want to stick Ms. Malrony's butt in that little chair forever. Ask me if I wanted to give her a piece of me mind. Ask me if I then and there wanted to pull me kiddo out of her class. The answer to all is a resounding YES I DID!
But she continued as I began to open me piehole to read her the O'Sully riot act.
"Now, Mr. O'Sullivan, I am going to ask you to NOT override any instructions I give to the children here. Do you think you can do that?"
This was said to me as if I were a three-year-old. Much like you talk to an uncomprehending child, or worse, a dog.
Me eyes were coals, I was sure, as I made to get up to me full six feet three inches and stand over her sorry arse, letting the O'Sully riot act burst forth, but for the fact that I forgot what I was sitting in and couldn't get up to intimidation height. Jayus, what was I thinking? I made a right show of struggling in the chair and grunting, where I was suddenly surrounded by the same three moms who helped me the first time. They were laughing, R. Linda, they were totally unaware of the situation, and that made me predicament even worse. I tell ya!
Ms. Malrony suggested, "Next time, sit on the edge of a table so this doesn't happen." Caroline Beal's mouth gaped open in astounded surprise at Malrony's parting shot. And Malrony had walked off. They got me out, but by then, Ms. Malrony was back to the conversation about the learning disability. I was left standing there with Rita Holmes giggling that she would have to tell Tonya how I got wedged in a small chair TWICE, and Caroline patting me on the back, telling me I was "no worse for the experience." Jessica Twombly told me to sit down and patted the table next to me, taking Ms. Malrony's suggestion as the only recourse after I stood. That was not a good suggestion because that is precisely what I did as I waited for Ms. Malrony, the riot act still ready to spew forth. And as I sat on the edge of the table, Dan Crenley got up from the pint-sized chair at the other end, where he had been leaning on the table for balance as he struggled to get out of the chair. When he let go, the table went over with me on it!
Okay, go ahead and laugh. Ms. Malrony looked over, as if to say, 'What are you doing now to disrupt the meeting?' Rita was in gales of laughter, trying not to laugh, but gales it was. I wasn't hurt, just me pride. Dan had come running around the table to get me on my feet, as everyone, and I mean everyone, including the kiddos, came to see if I had hurt meself or worse, in Ms. Malrony's opinion, broken the table!
As you can imagine, the O'Sully riot act went out the window, it did. I took me kiddo and me injured pride and went home, where I discovered me lower back was black and blue where I fell. Yeah, so I be home with me Mam tending to me injuries, the kiddo oblivious to me attempt to stick up for him, and well, I have a lot to think about. Like, do I tell Tonya what a fool I made of meself? Do I tell her our kiddo has a stormtrooper for a kindergarten teacher? Do I go in privately and have a "chat" with Ms. Malrony? Or do I play it by ear and say nothing?
I be nursing me injured pride right now. Also, nursing be Sean waiting on me hand and foot. I told him I took a spill on a slippery slope, and he bought it. Sean's bustling around, waiting on me, has given me some secret satisfaction. I know I shouldn't take out me anger on him, but he just happens to be number two on me O'Sully get even with list. We know who be number one. Yeah sure, "Sit on the edge of the table, Mr. O'Sullivan," (said in a sarcastic falsetto right to me face). I TELL YA!
Gabe
Copyright © 2018 All rights reserved
