I feel like I'm always writing about longing,
longing for being a better me, success, better writing, more engagement in my own life
longing to escape my flaws
In person, I lean into my flaws. I call them by name as if to scale them to a height I can tackle. It's often hilarious. I make incredibly funny mistakes. I am likely to put my underwear on inside out and tell you in a disarming moment. I once fell off of a desk in a roomful of 8th graders during a video so the crash was thunderous. I was bleeding. I couldn't even pretend I was like a cat that hadn't just done that.
Last week, I'd had a rough day of sassy backtalk from teenagers at work. This is not common in my relationships with students and I was a little on edge. After school there was a 40 min packed timeframe with my own kids, and to meet it, we'd have to be by-the-minute.
I arrived to get one son and he was not ready, though his teacher had said he would be. I walked into his room, told him to get his stuff and we left.
A few precious minutes behind, I took him to a quick orthodontist appointment then we continued on to pick up my other son from school. On the drive, he confessed he'd been rejected by a new friend because of swearing at school. I lectured him for a solid five minutes about not swearing at school. We neared his brother's school. As the options for turn-ins approached at the elementary school, I realized I didn't know which door to pick him up from and so was not sure where to turn in. I stopped briefly.
The car behind me laid on his horn. I waved back vigorously at the angry driver, letting all my fury out through my shaking hand.
He honked repeatedly and rolled his window down, stuck out his hand, and waved a middle finger at me. My window was already down and so I screamed "FUCK YOU" right back at him, releasing a whole day's worth of frustration out.
Yes, moments after telling my other son not to swear at school.
Yes, in front of the staff of the elementary school.
Yes, the principal was out there.
And yes, she heard.
I also heard my cell phone text alert. I pulled over in the pick up section.
The principal, Louise, approached my car and asked what happened. I told her and she just goes, "What was wrong with that guy?" and then added, "I hate covid." And I felt better. But also, that is the best principal ever.
The text message?
A picture from a friend of a bumper sticker that read "I hope you ski better than you drive."
And thank God, I do. I do ski better than I drive. Is it ski season yet?
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