I'm starting to think that Big Kid's mission in life is to embarrass me as often as possible.
On Friday, I was waiting in the car rider area with the other moms who are there every day...not talking because we never talk. None of us. It is very awkward and strange and whenever I do attempt communication, I end up regretting it because talking is even more awkward.
Well, remember the mom who took Big Kid out to the patio for lunch and then made a big deal out of his empty lunch box, never assuming that it was obviously a mistake and that she should help him get a lunch somehow? She was out there too. She looked up at me as I approached and then turned around to face the hallway. I know she saw me, but we never talk and that's fine with me so I thought nothing of it.
Finally the kids come out and as I take Big Kid's hand and begin to walk away, she stopped me and said, "Oh, I have to tell you something really funny that happened today."
I felt uneasy right away, since she's done this to me before and our definitions of funny differ, and because I thought it was annoying that she was stopping me now, noisy kids streaming by, adults crowded into us, bullhorn blaring, when we had just been standing there in silence moments before.
"Today was the walk-a-thon; I volunteered. A lot of the moms did, actually, I was surprised you didn't."
Mmmmkay, I thought. Let's get to the funny.
"Miss D told the kids to all go get their jackets and Big Kid said, 'I don't have a jacket because my mom was too lazy to pack me one." Then she laughs.
"That's not funny," I told her, turning to Big Kid, "Why did you say that? I didn't pack you a jacket because it is warm and sunny out," I told Big Kid.
"Well, we were all cracking up. It was very funny. All of the moms thought it was." she replied before walking off.
What a bitch, am I right? I think she's spoken to me two times total (and our kids have both been to each other's birthday parties, so we have done outside of school stuff together) and both times were to tell me "funny" stories about my inadequacies as a parent. Both times were "funny" stories that I wouldn't have relayed to the mom if I was the one to have overheard it, because most of us are better off not knowing the crazy crap our kids are telling people about us.
Also, we all know that there must be Big Kid stories that actually are funny and that aren't related to how much I suck, so why doesn't she share those?
I do feel the need to state that it has been in the high 70s/low 80s and clear and sunny every day this week. I haven't even seen anyone with a jacket, nor do I think one is necessary.
I just think it's really weird that she only speaks to me when she has some story like this to relay. Whatever.
Thanks Big Kid.
Now, yesterday I was library mom (note to self: next time you feel the urge to volunteer for a full year in an elementary school, stab yourself in the eye with a fork instead and call it a day) and some kid gets in the seat Big Kid had decided was his. This was not a big deal, so I told him so and expected we'd move on.
Big Kid starts whining and complaining and as I tell him to knock it off, he gets argumentative. I pull him aside and threaten him, in disbelief at his indignation and the fact that he was near tears over this absolutely ridiculous ordeal.
We get up to the librarian and she says, "Scan your card" and Big Kid says, "I'm not going to."
"You're not going to?" She asked.
"Nope. Nuffing in life is important to me anymore."
I scrape my jaw off of the floor and ask, "Did you just say that nothing in life is important to you anymore? Because someone took your seat?"
"Yes. Nuffing matters to me. Nuffing is important."
The librarian looks at me and stifles a laugh as she urges him to go ahead and scan the card. He said that he would but he wasn't going to wear his card around his neck like the other kids do, because it didn't matter, nothing mattered.
I managed not to beat his ass right then and there but HELLO. Nothing in life is important anymore?
If a child said that in my presence I would assume I was dealing with a chronically depressed and mistreated child, or a child who lives with someone who has serious issues and would say such things in front of their kid.
Thanks again, Big Kid.
So to recap, Big Kid has the people at his school convinced that I would pack him a lunch of two broken pretzel sticks and a melted chocolate, that I'm too lazy to dress him properly and that his life is so hard that nothing in life matters to him anymore.
And that's just what I know about.