Thursday, September 22, 2011

Find Me a Bus

I don’t know what is more shocking
That I’d die for my daughter
That I’d kill for her
Or that I’d knowingly become the most obnoxious parent in the universe
Maybe it’s that I was tempted to do two of the three during kindergarten orientation
There were no speeding busses to throw myself in front of
I was left with the need to strangle
The guy with the ‘100% white meat and proud of it’ tattoo
Standing contentedly in front of a black woman and
Behind an family of South Asian descent and
The teacher who told me that soon
My daughter might be able to read a book to the class
My daughter
Who reads twenty books a day
All by herself
You mutant witch
I wanted to strangle her
While my daughter read a book to her
Then maybe we’d decorate that classroom so it looked more like a kindergarten and
Less like an unusually colorful bureaucrat’s office
It all washed over me in waves
Coming from I have no idea where
My daughter loves school
Is having a great time and
Knows how to read and
Likes her teacher and
That should be all that matters
Should be
Because I know teachers and
Have heard them talk about parents like me
But what if she is sharing grapes with ‘white meat’s son and becomes a bigot
What if her reading goes unrecognized and
She stops and
The waves crash over me again and
I wish there was a bus I could jump in front of

No comments: