“Mom, could you not write me the letter?” baby, with a worrisome frown.

“Of course I have to write you the letter!” me, “It is the only homework your teacher assigned to me this whole school year. How could I not do it?!”

My 10-year-old was the Star Student of the week last week. That involved a big “All About Me” poster, and daily special classroom Star treatment. Thursdays are the parent to Star Student letters day, where we are to write something special and encouraging to our child, which will be read aloud to the entire class.

The baby has been fretting for days to my 13-year-old’s empathetic ears, but always within my earshot, that I was going to write about her chubby cheeks, about loving her to pieces, and about her being an absolutely splendid amazing kid. She predicted that my letter will be utterly embarrassing, that she will have to hide under her desk.

The baby at 9 months

So, I pen-ed her the following letter that was read to her entire 5th grade class:

Dear Tasterbach,

I know you have been dreading this letter, fearing I might say embarrassing mushy and lovey things that will send you diving under your desk.

I don’t want you to hide under your desk. There will be nothing loving in this letter. Instead, I will tell you about a few rotten things you have done to me.

Right from the beginning, you came out bigger than I would have liked. You did not arrive willingly either. You were quite unaware that you have overstayed your welcome, and I had to conspire with my doctor to evict you.

You came out furious. And staged a spectacular protest on the nurse’s weighting station. I asked the doctor if we could send you back. She told me it was too late.

When you finally learn to communicate, your favorite word was “No!” That made you an extremely uncooperative toddler. Even worse, you thought that you had exclusive rights to the word “No”, and would threw a monstrous fit when I applied the “No” against you.

You were especially rotten on an unforgettable Mother’s day.

Your Pre-Kindergarten class invited all the mothers to a Mother’s Day cupcake party. All you had to do was to follow simple instructions and do what the other nice children did, which were to introduce your mom, and show off a couple of pictures you drew for Mother’s Day.

You decided to go off script. You pointed at me, and announced to the class, “This is my mom,” and then deliberately, “She is a drinker.”

Bloody HELL…

The air was immediately sucked out of the room, the grown-ups in the classroom were shooting awkward glances at each other in every direction.

You were oblivious to the eerily silent classroom and my trauma, and had more to say, “She drinks black coffee ALL of the morning,” gave pause, then continued, “and she drinks green tea ALL of the afternoon. That’s my mom!”

Whew…The air was released back in the room, the moms and teachers exploded into laughter and everyone clapped mighty hard.

You beamed with pride with your awesome Mother’s Day speech.

Thank goodness that you are so darn cute all the time. Otherwise, I might have acted on the occasional temptations to wrap you back up, and ship you back to the hospital where you came from.



Previous related posts: The Best Mother’s Day Gift Ever!
Mother’s Day Terror
I Believe in Confidence
Give Me My “A” Back!!!

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