Outnumbered Two to One

Let me start off by saying I’ve got nothing against my son’s Kindergarten teacher. She seems swell judging from the brief exchanges I’ve had with her. My son enjoys going to school every day and is always smiling by dismissal, which leads me to believe she’s doing her job adequately. At the very least she’s keeping the five-year-olds from going Lord of the Flies on each other.

However, on Tuesday my son’s orange folder went missing, vanished from his book bag without a trace. In it were his daily behavior chart and his review cards. Both items required by his teacher on a regular basis and used to communicate with me certain basic truths about my son’s academic achievements and/or failures. I’d put the folder in his book bag that night, along with four other empty ones of varying hues that the teacher had requested earlier in the week. Five folders total.

When my son came home that day he was a little distraught. His orange folder was gone and the teacher told him she didn’t have it. It wasn’t in the classroom. It was gone.

Okay.

Listen, I’ve got four kids. My brain can get pretty scrambled. Sometimes I mix up their names. Sometimes I walk in to rooms and immediately forget my purpose for being there. I lose stuff all the time. I can admit that.

But I’m pretty methodical when it comes to their school supplies, homework, and teacher/parent communications. It all stems from my need to please. I want to wow the teacher with my stellar parenting abilities, I want the gold star, the A, the pat on the back that says “Hey, this lady is on the ball.”

I put the folder in his Incredible Hulk back pack Monday night, I know I did. I remember doing it. I’m the only person who goes in his bag once it makes it home. At school, my son only opens his bag to hand stuff to his teacher. I’m not being difficult or stubborn, just stating fact.

So I emailed the teacher because that is my preferred method of communication. I’d use smoke signals if I knew how, but alas I skipped that course at the community college.

She did not respond. Instead she kept giving my little boy tips on where to hunt for the damn thing. “Check in the car.” “Check in your room.”

Uh, no. Okay I actually did, just to cover my bases even though it made me angry and I was probably muttering to myself the whole time. So I sent another email that was basically ignored.

Friday my son came home with his orange folder.

Which was uncovered in a stack somewhere in his classroom with all the spare folders I’d sent Tuesday morning.

Of course it was.

Of. Course.

Because I’m on the ball and Ms. Kindergarten teacher is not.

In your face teacher.

Nevermind the fact that she’s got about 25 rambunctious five year olds itching to dance naked around a fire and lob coconuts at eachother. Still she should be able to keep track of a lousy folder, jeez.

It really wasn’t that big a deal, although it was kind of like a little splinter in my nail bed that I just had to dig out. But I’m over it. All’s forgiven, even if she never apologized or replied to my messages. I’ll still send her a sweet Christmas card with some Target money, because really, she seemed swell.

Still that little voice in my head might be whispering…in your face.

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