Oliver's first day of school included parents in the classroom for the duration of the day. We shuffled in, and I sat down in a chair made for a 4 year old next to a giant toy castle that I desperately wanted to play with. The kids all gathered together as the teacher called roll call for the first time in their tiny lives, and us parents watched on, most seemed apathetic, others seemed like this moment absolutely must be on Facebook, and just a couple of us, myself included were watching in awe as our kids got excited about being taught something.
Oliver was outstanding. He recognized his name and put it on the paper apple tree. He correctly told the teacher that 5+3=8, and when asked to talk about himself to the rest of the class, he spoke of his sister and living with his mom and dad. Oliver played with the viking castle with me for a couple minutes before asking to go play with the plastic tools with a couple of the other kids. I let him go, leaving me to shoot the little fake cannon at some barbies that I had set up.
I don't like the other parents. I hear them talking behind me, it's all about social media and celebrity gossip. I hear a mom speaking about how she's been a single mother for 7 years, and the dad she is telling this too is nodding, struggling to seem interested, just like he did when we exchanged boring whatevers earlier. There's a fat mom chasing her daughter around, taking pictures with her cellphone, never letting the little girl actually play. This is my son's first day of school ever, but this is also a new reality for me too. It won't just be picking up and dropping off, I will be a member of some classroom parent group for the next 2 decades at least.
Oliver wanted donuts after school, I said sure. He had 5.
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