Stay Humble, My Friends

Me, apparently.

Me, apparently.

 

The following story is a reminder to stay humble. Because if you don’t, there darn sure is a classroom full of kids waiting to bring you down.

Yesterday, I  got to be the art assistant at my kids’school. So I had to look a bit more presentable than I usually do on a Monday morning, you know, project an air of confidence, and all that. Which meant  I actually had to shower, get dressed, and put makeup on, instead of just rolling out the door in yoga pants, sneakers, and a fleece. Trust me when I say that for me, doing this  prior to 11:00 a.m. is quite an accomplishment.

Perusing my closet, thinking about the morning ahead, I selected a pair of J Crew jeans, not too mom-ish,  and a cute cotton Tea -n- Rose top. I was trying for stylish, yet comfortable and also washable because, you know, art. Small silver hoops, plus my wedding ring, would be all the jewelry I would need today. I slipped  into my Naots, the most comfortable shoes I own. While they weren’t high fashion,  I was going to be on my feet, and these shoes would be the perfect choice.

After finishing my make-up with a touch  of Stila Lip Glaze in Fawn, and I was ready. I gave myself the once over in the mirror on the way out the door, happy that I can still look cute and convinced I looked at least a few years younger than my real age.  No schlumpy “mom” look for me! No sir!

I walked into the classroom, me and my air of confidence,  and the kids, already assembled on the carpet, started to murmur. There was a buzz of excitement, and one of the boys shouted out, “Hey! I saw you on TV!”

Several other kids chimed in as well. “Yeah, you’re on TV!” and “I saw you too!”

Well, now, what was this? I suppressed a smile, glad that I made an effort to look nice this morning.

I was flattered, but a bit confused.  To my knowledge I haven’t been on TV since I was about six and I was one of the kids in the “audience” on Clubhouse 22. (Note: I spent the whole time staring at myself on the monitor and my dream of being discovered and  whisked off to join the Mouseketeers was over in a flash.)

These kids must have been confusing me with some no doubt very attractive local newscaster.  I smoothed my hair, made a mental note of which lip gloss I chose that morning, and waited for further compliments explanation.

And then, the same boy that piped up when I first walked into the room said, “You’re on Dr. Pol!”

Hmmm. I was now slightly more confused. I’ve seen The Incredible Dr. Pol a few times. It’s a reality show about a country veterinarian that deals with mostly large animals and there is much birthing, and goo,  and sticking of entire arms up the aforementioned  animals’ hoo-hahs. There are several regulars on the show, but I couldn’t remember anyone on the show  that looks anything like me.

I reasoned that there must have been a veterinary assistant on one episode. Probably a young pretty one. Of course! That must be who they think I am. Precious little dears.

But then, out of nowhere,  came the icy jab that brought me hurtling back to reality.

“You’re Dr. Pol’s mom!”

Um, what the what?

Have you ever seen Dr. Pol, you guys? Dr. Pol is in his seventies. Which would make his mom, oh, I don’t know, around one-hundred.

Desperate for an explanation, I reasoned that maybe they just got mixed up. They must have thought I resembled his wife, not his mom. Who, by the way, is probably not even still alive God rest her soul. But that actually didn’t make me feel any better, because his wife is in her seventies. And then, to add insult to injury, several kids began to clap and chant in unison, “You’re on  TV! You’re on TV! You’re on TV!”,until the teacher quieted them down so they could listen to the project instructions.

Humbled, I finished up the morning  with the little monsters kids, no longer feeling like the adorable, well-put together  young thing  I was when I left the house. The art projects turned out cute, anyhow.So there’s that.

And after I was done in the classroom, I drove home going about twenty miles per hour with my left turn signal on the whole way. Because that’s how we roll.

 

Comments

  1. Yes, but did you have the belt from your coat sticking out the bottom of the car door??

    Hilarious!

    • Dying, Anne! I had forgotten about that. It’s like the seat belt hanging out and making sparks. Or the tennis ball on the car antenna. (What was that for, anyhow?)

  2. So funny! Kids have a way of making our day and ruining our day–equally. Thanks for sharing!

  3. Kids. They do say the darnedest things. I’m sorry for your “moment of greatness” turned out to be a glimpse of how kids relate to TV. You handled it well, and thank God the teacher intervened! Followed you from sharefest.

Speak Your Mind

*