A fistful of whiskey makes the medicine go down

I would like to say it was because of my super organizational skills, my calm demeanor and in the immortal words of Hansel (he’s so hot right now) from Zoolander, my ability to go Monk and pull my underwear out of my ass. But no. My favourite time of the year had crept up on me like some psycho doll again: School meeting time! But this time, the meeting, like a hydra, grew another head. And I somehow managed to be in charge of slaying one of them. I know, I know- a most unlikely candidate to chair a meeting: the one person who hates meetings with a passion and wishes everybody would just shut up. Now that I put it that way though, maybe I was the right choice…
Anyway. Monday began with a usual work day. I had to leave a little early to get to my first school gabfest which began at 16:30. Now at 16:30, the meeting about the meetings, or as I like to call it, the meta-meeting began. This was for all the class representatives to see if they did not want to space the class meetings out in order to allow parents with more than one kid in the class to attend. Now this is a sensible order of business and I could get behind this notion, having been in htat same predicament myself. But then, the next order of business was to “address the problem with the group I represented”. I spent the next hour and a half talking, defending, getting exasperated (trying to go monk and partially succeeding) about why a meeting was cancelled in December. This was exceptional on my part as I had no idea why it had been cancelled, was not the one who cancelled it and was secretly thankful it was cancelled.
Things I learned:
Class meetings are obligatory in this school
You are never too old to feel like a scolded school child
People like to revel in the misfortune of others (okay- I already knew this one)

Now. On to the next meeting. I was waiting for my two fellow class representatives to show up, hoping that one of them would have the final draft of the agenda for the meeting. She did not show up, and although I was chairing it, I had no agenda. My other representative might have been there, except I don’t know her and she never came up to me to help. Not an auspicious beginning. After having been coached at the other meeting and told not to let the teacher take over, the teacher promptly took over. I must admit though, the meeting was the best we had so far- not because I was chairing it (my participation was paltry and of no account) but because we actually got stuff done and certain aspects clarified. And of course it only lasted two hours instead of the painful three and half hours it usually does.
Things I learned:
-A fist of whiskey and two extra strength advil certainly takes the edge off
-Sometimes it is hard to distinguish between humility and not caring (in that the experience was degrading and condescending and I would be upset about it if I cared more- I am choosing to think that it is just because I am humble enough to accept criticism)
-If I had known about these meetings before having children, I might have reconsidered.

And that was just Monday.

3 thoughts on “A fistful of whiskey makes the medicine go down

  1. this goes along with your very last sentence:I am randomly clicking away on the internet. Boyfriend comes into the room. I say: “hey, wire monkey put a new post up!”“Oh yeah? What’s it about?”“parent teacher school something meetings.”He bursts into laughter, and:“man, they ply us with babies whenever we go over and try to encourage us to breed…. they have no idea how much they are discouraging us from having kids, do they?”So now you know.

  2. “Ply you with babies” Come now. “Encourage you to breed?” Really. Like I think of my friends as a pair of race horses who might sire a stud one day. I have to admit, I am a little offended (in the mock virtual way blog comments allow you to be.)Except I have only to say this- it is all fine to joke about maybe not having kids because of parent meetings (which, by the way, are unique to our school- there are advantages and disadvantages having our kids in a school where parent participation is part of the school’s mandate. On the one hand, parents participate allowing the kids to embark on projects they would not have the chance to do otherwise. On the other, parents participate.)But really, it might go down as the shittiest reason ever for not having kids. So get get yourself another good reason. In fact, last time I checked, you didn’t need a reason. Not having them was sufficient.Just don’t tack the blame on me. Some frustrated would-be grandparent might come after me…

  3. oh monkey. Not blaming you! My tongue was firmly planted in my cheek.I mean no argument with you, woman.My own “reasons” for being completely freaked out about having children are solely my own. Let the record show:At no time has monkey mama ever told french panic or pamplemousse to get breeding, and at no time have we ever felt pressure from you to do so.Let the record also show that I SUCK at being funny. Will stop trying.And dude, if I was guaranteed to get replicants of your offspring, I’d throw out all my birth control immediately.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: