It's the most wonderful time of the year!

Aaaahhh... It's Back To School time. For most parents this is the best time of year, for some weird, freak parents, it's a sad time. To the freaks, this is not the time to be a nonconformist maverick; celebrate, rejoice and enjoy your morning coffee! The brats are out of the house for at least six hours, five days a week! Woohoo!

Hopefully you realise I don't actually consider my kid a brat all of the time, just occasionally. My offspring needs the structure that the school day brings her. I find she grows restless and mischievous when left to her own devices. Sipping Palm Bay and throwing the rest in the sink, draining my nail polish, snooping through my closet... the usual, nothing to be too concerned about but annoying to say the least. I cannot even count, on both hands, how many lectures she received this summer...and she was away for HALF of it! Some may say she is a chip off the mommy block, I say she is her own person and way too smart for her own good. A Hawking size brain jammed into a 4'8", 65lb frame; how can she not be artfully wicked?

Nervous Monkadoo

Today was her first day at her new French immersion school and man was she nervous. The day started with her freaking out about getting soap on her new back-to-school jeans and insisting that I take her shopping for new ones at 7:00am or washing the jeans in question. Bullet dodged by explaining she could wipe it with water and then blowdry... Phew! I was instructed not to embarrass her by calling her "Punk", "Monkadoo" or any other nickname I have managed to assign over the years. Hugs and kisses were forbidden as were pictures (I, of course, took pictures anyway) Once I was given the once over, my outfit deemed OK and multiple lectures on being chill were given, we were on our way with child talking a mile a minute and asking innocuous questions, me gulping back coffee and the soothing sounds of Aerosmith blaring out the car speakers.

MO-OM!

Once we arrived I discovered the same old latte guzzling, tight-assed bitches as usual and cowering fathers doing their best to avoid the overzealous PAC mothers. Daughter and I walked into the school and were met by the uber hot Vice Principal. This guy brings a whole new meaning to "geek chic" and his  handshake was nice and firm. I was practically drooling while child was doing her best to ask questions. We were directed into the gym with all of the other new students and parents and my Monkadoo was doing her best runway walk, trying desperately to appear calm and cool. I have to admit, she has pretty much mastered the skill; just like her mother. I stealthily took pictures of her and guzzled more coffee waiting to find out which teacher/classroom she would be assigned to. Mr. Yummy McPrinicipal Pants sauntered in and was immediately given my attention and that of the other women and girls in the gym. We toured the school (which is actually my old school), had a question and answer period and finally found out which class would be home to my daughter for the next ten months. I was excited to find out she is with the teacher of my choice and that there are about fifteen kids in her class. Perfect.

I left her in the classroom after she forced me out and walked around smiling at everybody and attempting to make friends. No such luck. Not only is my girl the new kid, so am I. Fuck 'em I say. I eventually called my best girlfriend, made carpool arrangements, read my book and sipped more coffee. I didn't get to see the delectable authoritarian again but tomorrow is another day.

It amazes me how quickly my punk got over her jitters and started making friends; she is clearly not as socially awkward as her mother. She was full of smiles and hugs when I met her outside the school and could not wait to tell me everything, including the fact that she thinks her school is going to be the best place to be this year. As we passed her old school, her exact words were, "HA HA Suckers!" Let the games begin....

Same school, 23 years earlier.. Don't laugh.