Jen,
Well, I certainly didn’t expect to hear from you. I really don’t think I will need help, but if you are having trouble disengaging from your power seat and you want to come in for a bit, I guess it would be fine. Please bring the children a snack.
Asami
* * *
A snack, yes! I shut my laptop and turn my chair to look at my kitchen. I got me some baking to do.
*
Never say never. This is my new motto. I said I would never have another kid after Laura, and lo and behold I did. I said I would never read Fifty Shades of Grey, but after seeing Nina’s reaction to it, I did. And I said I would never again make my mother’s Sticky Chewy Five Napkin Brownies, but here I am putting the second batch into the oven.
These babies are killer. The recipe calls for, among other things, nine eggs, two cups of sugar, a whole pound of butter, toffee, chocolate chips, and whipping cream. Totally unhealthy, but they taste like heaven and my kids love them. The only downside is they are a leeetle messy to eat. If I’m being honest, you need a lot more than five napkins to keep yourself together. A container of Wet Ones is more like it.
Asami asked for a snack, and a snack she will get. Yes, that’s right. I’m going to give a bunch of five-and six-year-olds the equivalent of a mud pie to eat before they get photographed. I’m that small and petty. Our new class mom should never have reminded me to bathe my child.
*
On picture day, I sally forth to school around ten a.m., armed with the Sticky Chewy Five Napkin Brownies, a roll of paper towels, and, of course, a gluten-and nut-free snack for Graydon.
I head to room 147, where I see that Asami has all her hair-styling equipment lined up on a tray and ready for action.
The children are seated at their tables, listening with rapt attention as Miss Ward explains the best way to smile for a picture.
“When they ask you to smile, try to think of a funny joke. That way, when you smile it will be with your whole face and not just your mouth.”
She then proceeds to show the kids what a just-a-mouth smile looks like. She looks ridiculous, but the kids love it. They are laughing and doing it to each other.
“Okay, settle down. Now, who knows a joke, so I can show you a smile with my whole face?”
Sixteen hands shoot up, including Max’s, and I can’t help but wonder what jokes he knows. There is a chorus of “Me, please, me please, oh me please!” as Miss Ward takes her time deciding.
“Zach T. What have you got?”
Zach T. beams with excitement as he stands up.
“Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?” “Europe.”
“Europe who?”
“No, you’re a poo!” Zach yells out, and the class explodes with laughter as Miss Ward’s face bursts into a bright smile. Even Asami is laughing.
“Good one, Zach. Put a marble in the compliment jar.”
As Zach proudly steps up I hear my universal name being called.
“Mom!” Max runs up and hugs me like he didn’t just see me an hour and a half ago. I love it. Way too soon, he will find it embarrassing when I come to his classroom, but for now it’s still a treat.
“Hi, buddy.” I give him a big squeeze. He still smells of last night’s bath and I take an extra whiff before I let him go.
“Jennifer, I’m glad you’re finally here” is all the greeting I get from Asami. “The photographer is set up two doors down the hall. The children will get their individual shots done and when they’re all finished, the photographer will take the group shot. I will be with the photographer and you will be with the class, sending the kids to me one at a time. Got that?”
“And good morning to you, Asami!” I reply.
“Did you bring a snack?”
I hold up my shopping bag.
“What are those for?” she asks, pointing to the paper towels.
“Just in case the kids get messy.” I hope to God she doesn’t ask me what I brought. “I even have something special for Graydon,” I add by way of distracting her.
But it isn’t necessary. She just nods to me and picks up her hair supplies. As she heads out the door, she has one parting instruction.
“Don’t give them their snack until they come back from getting their picture taken.”
“Got it!” I say, a bit too enthusiastically.
Miss Ward has been watching the whole exchange. She raises her eyebrows at me.
“Wow, Dixon goes to China, huh?”
Why is that okay for her to say, but my “your people” comment is still offensive? Seriously, where’s the line? Do they keep moving it?
“Okay, class, Max’s mom is going to let you know when it’s your turn to get your picture taken. The rest of the time, we will be practicing our letters. I want everyone to get out your workbooks and start working on capital ‘M’s.”
There is a brief commotion as the kids get their books from their cubbies; then they all settle down. I have to say, I still think Miss Ward is crazy, but damn if she doesn’t run a tight ship. She walks over and hands me a piece of paper.
“Here’s a class list. May as well go in alphabetical order.” She heads to the door.
“Class, Max’s mom is in charge. Please listen to her.”
“Wait, where are you going?” I ask and I can hear a little panic in my voice. I don’t want to be left alone with sixteen kids. I can barely handle my one.
“Just to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” As she walks out, I see she’s carrying her cell phone. Who does she need to call right now?
I consult the list and revel in the irony that it is the one I typed up for her at the beginning of the school year. When I look up, sixteen pairs of eyes are gazing at me, gauging my level of commitment to keeping order.
“Okay, Kit, you’re up first. The rest of you, back to your letters.”
Kit Aikens jumps up like she has just won bingo and skips out the door. Damn those lucky kids with “A” last names, always first for everything. I eye the rest of the group to let them know I’m not going to take any nonsense, and they all get back to work..
I take this opportunity to head to the long table at the back of the classroom and take out my weapon of mass destruction—the Sticky Chewy Five Napkin Brownies. Oh, they smell divine. I have a small twinge of guilt as I look at how nice all the kids look today, but when Kit Aikens walks back into the room with tears in her eyes and her beautiful blond curls tamed into a braid, I realize I’m on the side of right.
“Hey, Kit, come on back here. You can have a brownie while you work.” I look at the list. “Hunter, you’re up next.”
Hunter dashes out the door with the reckless abandon that only a six-year-old can supply. Kit joins me at the back table.
“Do you like brownies?” I ask with a smile. I feel like I’m pushing drugs.
She nods and takes one hungrily. I hand her a paper towel. “You might need one of these.”