So, I went to Squish’s volunteer tea today–which was lovely. It’s an event thrown by the PTA and the teachers to say thanks for volunteering, and I felt like such a fraud–I’m only there a couple of times a year but Squish’s teacher is so kind– she asked, and I showed.
Well, I parked myself in the way back–the mercenary’s spot, I call it. Back to the wall, space on either side, can see everything.
Anyway, Squish was in the choir– and I’d asked her if she needed her blue shirt and she said no, and I was right and she was wrong.
But it didn’t matter.
Because. Look at that picture above. You all know what she looks like by now– bright red hair, taller than almost everyone in the 4th grade?
I sent that picture to Mate, and he texted back, I don’t see her.
So I cropped the picture. See there? Behind the kid with the Marvel shirt, and the kid behind him with the blue shirt, there is an arm in a pink sweatshirt.
I sent it to Mate, with directions.
I still don’t see it. You’re making her up.
So the irony here?
I got there, all suave, thinking I was setting myself up to hide in the back, right?
And my kid is a better spy than I am, in the fourth grade, with hair like a sunrise.
And the music wasn’t bad either.
Oh yeah– before I went? I got my toes done. The woman in the chair next to me was a former teacher–she knew Squish’s choir teacher, and was thrilled to hear we had a string program. She has some resources to offer the new teacher. I did that. Making the world better one pedicure at a time. (We won’t discuss my eyebrows though. What happened to my eyebrows does nothing good for anybody. Saying.)
So… do you see her yet?