Parents and Teachers
It was my worst nightmare: a grown woman in a red and black superhero cape and matching mask was "flying" through the aisles of my son's public school auditorium. As she flapped by, she shouted, "The PTA wants YOOOOUUU!" I slid down in my seat, hoping we wouldn't meet eyes.
I never imagined, looking into the eyes of my tiny baby five years earlier, that one day that baby would enter kindergarten, and I would be subject to the total loserdom of joining the Parent-Teacher Association. The PTA had always conjured up in my mind pictures of tan women in tennis skirts putting an unhealthy amount of energy into the details of the Fun Fair.
I thought that maybe I could get away with being the parent on the sidelines, the cool one. Yet here I was, sitting in the auditorium at the year's first PTA meeting. For the life of me, I couldn't remember why I had signed up for the PTA. And Superdork in the cape wasn't making me feel any better about it.
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