I guess discretion is not one of my strong suits. Yep, it's definitely not. I'm moderately outspoken, and I would hope that my children are as well. But, that stupid discretion keeps getting in the way. Maybe it's due to the relocation to said region. In the south there is slightly less tolerance for first amendment activists, where, in our former habitat, PacNW, it was celebrated and eagerly anticipated. The most difficult part is candidly speaking your mind in front of children with a pension for repeating your every word in the least appropriate places in the world. I never thought it would hit me squarely in the face. And yet....
Getting the note from the school, Beulah Elementary. (Say it with a drawl and you just about have it)The note would read; "Dear Ms. Rose, please arrange a meeting with me at your earliest convenience regarding Magnolia's extra-curricular education." Shit, here it comes. I transform into a sixth grader instantly. Panic, raging hormones and the thought that I'm in big trouble. I hope I don't get detention.
"Thank you for coming in, good to see you and sorry this is such short notice." Mrs. Nott, Magnolia's first grade teacher says.
"Not at all, I'm glad to touch base once again, is everything allright?" I'd ask, making myelf comfortable in a tiny ass chair.
"I'm afraid that we need to discuss Magnolia's education, that is, the extra-curricular education."
"Extra-curricular? At home?" I'd strain as I make a quick inventory of the things that I have taught her. Cooking eggs, that's not an educational offense. Makeup? Maybe. How to beat the dog with the shoe he just ate? Hope not. How to make a beer bong? All of the lyrics and dance moves to the Rocky Horror Picture Show? Oh shit, this could get interesting.
"Yes, it appears that she has been misinformed in current world politics. Most directly who the president is" Mrs. Not would tighten up a bit.
" Well Magnolia has been very interested in the election campaigns. And I know Obama isn't President yet, but we are hopeful." I'd smile weakly, in an effort to sell it.
"Yes, unfortunately that is not the issue that we need to disscuss today. Magnolia has been mislead as far as the name of our current President."
Lightbulb. Fuck. Right now I'm regretting everything that I had ever joked about in this southern landscape and wish I could just melt into a puddle on the grey green carpet and get evaporated by the excessive AC.
"George W. Douche" I'd mutter, eyes closed.
"George W. Douche" Mrs. Nott would spit out, just barely over the tightly pursed lips.
George W. Douche.So simple, so true. This is a guy, who walked up to Pope Benedict, the largest leader of one of the most prominent religions in the world and said, "Lookin' good, there Pope!"
I thought I was being clever, and sometimes I think that I still am, but before this scene played out in real life, I took it upon myself to correct the situation.
"Magnolia, in a form of political protest, you have been misled as to the information of who our current national leader is. The pronounciation of his name is George W. Bush." I winced.
"I know, Mom."
"Really?" I'm surprised.
"But you can still call him whatever you want at home, but when you start school, you gotta be cool, got it?"
"Got it Mom."
Allright, I can right that horrid little scenario out of my head. A little sigh.
"But, Mom?"
"Yes, Magnolia?"
"He's still a douche,right?" She asks with those wide open, inquisitive eyes.
"Yes, my baby, he is"
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