Passive-Aggressive Revenge

Dear Mom of That Toddler,

I've always felt kind of sorry for you, as you tried to leave the preschool as your son screamed from the room across the hall. Sometimes I would even see your older daughter tearing up outside of her classroom and I would think, Man, that must suck. I had sympathy. But yesterday your son ran over my daughter while they were playing outside. We were both watching, which is probably what made Ironflower burst into tears. I know your little boy didn't mean to hurt her. But. . .you should have made him apologize anyway. It's polite behavior. I don't care if he wouldn't have meant it, or even understood it. If he's old enough to go to school he's old enough to understand that he should be polite.

So, I will no longer give you sympathetic looks while your children freak out in the morning. Instead I will be thinking superior thoughts because my children generally only freak out at home.

Yours,
Ironflower's Mom

Dear Kelly Bensimon or whatever the hell your name is (from the Real Housewives of NYC),

As I watched your little brouhaha with Bethenny this week, I couldn't help but wonder if you were simply stupid or the biggest narcissist this side of . . .um. . .Madonna. If you wanted to prove how mature you were (and how immature Bethenny supposedly is), running around whining to everyone about Bethenny's comment was not the way to go. Also, you wouldn't have stated - in front of everyone at the meeting - that you wouldn't put your name on the invitation. You would have said it privately. If you had class.

From
Someone who has no doubt you popped that guy

Dear Mr. D-----, (co-owner of Ironflower's dance school)

Look, I don't really have a problem with how you exploit the parenting paranoia around here for financial gain. We're adults, after all. Most of us are well-educated. So it's our own fault if we allow ourselves to be suckered in to overpaying for things so that our daughters fit in at your school. But. To stride into the classroom on parent observation day and to tell me - in front of my daughter, her classmates and the other parents - that I'm the only one who hasn't bought tickets for the recital yet? That's not okay. Some might even say it's shitty.

I say it means that my daughter will be attending a different dance school next year.

Happily,
A soon-to-be former customer

Oops, I've Failed It Again

So Ironflower is taking a dance class this year. Yesterday was parent observation day, which I forgot about completely. Forgetting meant that I brought the baby with me, even though the rules said "No Siblings". If this had been the only issue, I would not be blogging about it - I'm so used to forgetting things these days.

But because it was observation day, there was another bit of humiliation. You see, I have these clogs. I love them, but I can only wear trouser socks with them. And my trouser socks keep getting holes in them. But because my clothing needs are low on my priority list, I keep wearing said socks. Or sometimes I pair two socks that don't exactly match to maximize their lack of holes. Yesterday I happened to be wearing such a pair because I assumed no one would see them. One sock was black and one sock was navy. And the black one had developed a hole by the time of dance class. . . where I had to remove my clogs to enter the studio.

So in I walked with my mismatched holey socks and my uninvited baby, trying to hold my head up and slide the hole to the bottom of my sock. And take pictures of hyper Ironflower. Finally the class started and I sat down so as to hide my socks. I even managed to quiet the baby. I was started to feel better about myself when one of the school's owners walked in. And headed straight for me.

Apparently I am the only parent who has not purchased recital tickets yet.

They went on sale on Saturday.

I saw all the moms - who are all normally quite sweet - look at me oddly as I promised that I would purchase tickets ASAP.

The recital, by the way, is in May.

I can't believe I'm THAT mom, with the holey socks and bad hair. With the slacking on buying tickets. With the forgetting about observation day. I wonder how long before my issues scar my children?