I know I’ve written about how my children have embarrassed me, but I should really give equal time to how much I embarrass my children. According to my nine-year-old, my actions led to “the second most embarrassing moment of (her) life!” I haven’t gotten out of her what the first is yet. Probably reading about my escapades on this blog, I would imagine.
I am the producer and choreographer for the elementary school play this year. Basically I’m in charge of making sure everything happens for the play. One thing that needed to happen was letting the kids know about auditions. So, the PTA President got the bright idea to dress up, go in to all the upper grade classrooms, sing a little part of one of the songs, and tell the kids what they needed to do if they wanted to audition.
Our elementary school is doing We are Monsters, so I had to wear my vampire costume, complete with choker, lace gloves, spider web cape and bright red lipstick. I usually wear high heeled boots, too, but in the interest of saving myself from a broken neck due to the ice, I put on flats and off I went.
The cute PTA President, and I went to the first classroom: my nine-year-old daughter’s room. When we entered I heard her groan: “Oh no!” Then, as we sang and slunk around the room, my sweetie got lower and lower in her seat. She rolled her eyes numerous times and then wouldn’t make eye contact at all after she’d rolled sufficiently. She told me afterwards that about ten of her classmates told her, “Your mom is weird.” But, about ten other people told her, “Your mom is pretty.” So, in my mind, my presence there evens out her social currency.
When I went into my eleven-year-old son’s classroom, he sang along to the song, smiled at me, and got up and gave me a hug when I left. Two very different reactions, two very different children.
I got even more strange looks when I went out into the parking lot. School was just ending, and all sorts of parents were lined up to pick up their kids. My attire caused many a head to turn my way. They probably wondered if I had mixed up my holidays and thought it was still Halloween instead of nearing Christmas.
I know it won’t be the last time I embarrass my daughter. And sometime in the future, I’ll probably embarrass my son. It’s just the circle of life, people. It’s my duty to embarrass the next generation, just as my parents used to embarrass me. And when my grandkids complain about what their parents are doing to embarrass them, I’ll say, “That’s nothing, one time I dressed up as a vampire, in the middle of December, and went to your mom’s classroom…”