Maybe My Tear Ducts Are Clogged

cryHas anyone else ever woken up to realize that they lack attributes that others deem necessary.

Today was my sons first day of school. Oh happy day, 7 hours of non-stop interaction guaranteed to wipe him clean of any and all energy by the time I get home from work. Perfect right? Apparently not so much. Apparently I am supposed to be distraught by the thought of my child spending hours out of his day surrounded by his peers and an educated adult that is PAID to cherish and care for my child.

Apparently "First Day of School" is some sort of code for "You Should Be Crying You Heartless Hag", because as I stood there, ushering my child into his seat, 5 minutes late (Don’t Judge me!) I found myself to be the only parent that didn’t look as if they had just lost a much needed appendage. Which then, in turn made me begin to wonder… Am I supposed to be crying…and if yes, how come I wasn’t? Am I missing some sort of mommy gene that every other women on the planet has? Am I really that screwed up that I can’t shed a few tears for my child? And then, with out any sort of warning I started to panic. I should be crying… think of something sad! Now!! Injured puppies, A damaged Kate Spade handbag. ANYTHING! But no, nothing, not even a silent whimper..

So on to Plan B: Did I have any eye drops in my purse? Maybe I could fake the tears just long enough for the other parents to stop leering at me like I’m some sort of leper. Maybe if I bit my tongue really hard at least my eyes would water. Again nothing. So there I was, the only parent not acting as if my child was going off to war and suddenly it struck me, maybe I wasn’t the one overreacting with my blatant lack of waterworks…maybe everyone else was.

That I’m sure is a question only a shrink could answer, but for now, I’ll just sit here and take pleasure in the fact I don’t think the PTA will be calling me any time in the foreseeable future.

How’s that for optimism.


About Misty

Your friendly neighborhood narcissist. I'm sarcastic, cynical and a bit cranky. I own a soap box so big that sometimes I have difficulty stepping down off of it, and I'm about 94% certain I have multiple personalities. I don't sleep enough, and I read more than any person should ever consider normal. I have anger management issues, especially when I'm stuck in traffic and I have an unhealthy obsession with my Kindle. I am a vampire lovin', zombie obsessed, book-in-hand, iPod freak. You either love me or hate me. You be the judge.