Of course I remember the P.E. laundry room! I want to scream, but instead I respond with that witty giggle I have recently adopted and, get this … a thumbs-up. Could I be any dorkier?
I get back to the job at hand and leave my high school crush to charm someone else. I glance around, and over by the book nook I notice a shortish woman with mousy brown hair and a guy who is a total hunk. They can’t be together. I don’t want to generalize, but let’s face it, hot goes with hot, average goes with average, and so on down the line unless there is a large amount of money involved. But that would mean she has the money. I wonder if that’s why Miss Ward is all tarted up tonight. Between Don Burgess and this guy, my time would have been well spent putting on some lipstick.
After Miss Ward’s presentation about all the “super-fun” things the kids are going to learn this year, it is time for me to give my spiel. I stand up on a chair for maximum effect.
“Hi, everyone. I’m Jennifer Dixon, your class mom. Perhaps you have seen my emails?” I smile at the hunk, but notice that he’s holding hands with his Mrs. She must be loaded. Don is standing behind him and gives me a thumbs-up.
As I continue, I get a few grins, but mostly blank stares, plus one toxic glare from Asami Chang. Tough room. Luckily I was planning to make my remarks brief. I’m much braver in writing than I am in person.
“I have brought copies of the class list for everyone. I also sent it to you in a PDF. If you have any questions, you can always call or email me. All my contact information is at the bottom.”
At this point, I look up and see Nina walk in, wearing a megawatt smile and a fabulous aqua blouse that really brings out the blue in her eyes. I feel like I need to end with a bang to impress the woman who put me in this power position, so I add, “Here’s to a great year!”
As everyone turns to the refreshment table, Nina walks over.
“Way to whip them into a frenzy.”
“Yeah, well, I’m better in print.”
“Have you made any friends yet?”
“Shirleen Cobb and I had a moment.”
“Ah, the allergy mom.”
“And, oh my God!” I drop my voice to a whisper. “The hottest guy in my high school is a parent in this class! I just made a total idiot of myself talking to him.”
“Which one is he?” She looks around. “That guy?” She motions toward the guy with the rich wife.
“No. He’s over by the food. Dirty blond hair and jeans.”
Nina spots him and raises her eyebrows in approval.
“Not my flavor, but he’s pretty damn cute.”
“Are you kidding me? He’s totally hot.”
She shrugs. “I can see how he would have been gorgeous in high school.”
For some reason, this irritates the crap out of me.
“Shouldn’t you be bothering your own classroom instead of checking on mine?”
Nina laughs. “Nope. It’s my job as PTA president to visit everyone. Oooh! Is that sushi? Nice touch.” She makes a beeline for the California rolls.
As she leaves, the two women in black approach me minus their husbands. They both have long straight hair and are dressed in turtleneck sweaters, black jeans, and over-the-knee boots. They are both as skinny as I believe a woman can be and still be called a woman. Their only difference is one is about six inches taller than the other, and one is blond, the other brunette. In my head I immediately dub them Dr. Evil and Mini-Me. Dr. Evil speaks first.
“Hi, I’m Kim Fancy, Nancy’s mom.”
Seriously, her daughter is Nancy Fancy. Who would do that?
“Hi, Kim. I think Nancy and Max sit at the same table.”
“Oh, really? Nancy never said anything.”
“Well, neither did Max, but their names are on their seats.”
I turn to Mini-Me.
“I’m Jen.”
“I’m Kit’s mom, JJ Aikens.”
“O-KK,” I joke. Nothing. Mini-Me just stares.
“When are you planning the parent cocktail night?” she asks.
“Sorry? The what?”
Dr. Evil looks at me like I have two heads.
“Every year the class mom organizes a cocktail party so the parents can get to know each other.”
“Really? Is that new?”
“Uh, no,” Mini-Me says condescendingly. “We started it in preschool.”
“Well, okay. I’ll start thinking about it.” In my head I’m counting the ways I’m going to exact my revenge on Nina. Mini-Me interrupts my thoughts.
“We both have really busy schedules, so the sooner you can pick a date, the better.”
“Okay. Good to know.”
“Can’t wait!” Dr. Evil says, and they both smile and walk away. I make a mental note to get the backstory on them.
I turn away, looking to rip Nina a new one, when I bump into the extremely tall couple.
“Hi, Jen? I’m Peetsa and this is my husband, Buddy.”
“Pizza?”
“Yup. Just like the food. We’re Zach Tucci’s parents.”
“Oh, my gosh, Max talks about Zach T. all the time.”
“Same here,” Buddy says, and then he blushes. “I mean, Zach talks about Max.”
I think I like these two despite their intimidating height. Buddy has jet black hair that he wears brushed back, dark eyes, and a nose that might just be a little too small for his face. Peetsa can only be described as a classic Italian beauty. Think Sophia Loren, but with smaller boobs and lips.
“We should set up a play date,” I suggest.
“Your place or mine?” Buddy says, and immediately blushes again. Oh, jeez, this guy is going to be fun to tease.
Peetsa rolls her eyes. “He means we’d be happy to host. By the way, we love your emails. It’s the first time I’ve ever laughed out loud reading something from a class mom.”
“Thanks. I try to have fun with them. I’ll host the play date. Max just got a remote-control helicopter and he’s dying to show someone.”
“Is Max your only child?” Peetsa asks me.
“No, I have two older daughters.”
“Oh, do they go here?”
“Well, they used to. Do you have any besides Zach?”
“Our daughter Stephanie is in sixth grade. Kinda crazy how long we waited between kids, huh?”
I decide to hold off telling her just how not crazy six years between kids sounds to me.
“I’ll call you tomorrow to set up a play date. By the way”—she leans in to me—“is it me, or does our teacher look like a hooker?”
It’s official. I love this woman.
“Maybe she has a paying gig after this?” I offer.
“Buddy can’t take his eyes off that sweater.”
“What?” Buddy blushes. “It’s a nice color.”
Peetsa laughs and pulls him away.
I turn to grab something to eat, and bump into two women, one tall with short blond hair and the other even taller with really short brown hair, scoping out the brownies. Encouraged by my last parent encounter, I put on my friendly face and say hello.
“Hi. I’m Jen.”
They both smile.
“Hi, I’m Carol, Hunter’s mom,” says Blondie.
“And I’m Kim, Hunter’s other mom,” says Short Brown Hair.
I don’t know why, but the two-mommy thing takes me by surprise. Unfortunately, when that happens, my ability to rebound isn’t stellar. I start to babble.
“Oh, wow! How great. Good for you! We should have a play date. Does Hunter like helicopters? Or do you guys try to keep him away from gender-specific toys?”