Tonight I’m making a midnight run to spray paint obscenities on an elementary school.
Sounds fun, right?
“Gasp! Why whatever for? That’s a terrible thing to do!” you say.
Nah. It’s justice.
Today my kid got rejected by snot school Henry Barnard (or as locals call it, Henry’s Barnyard), the fuckers.
She sort of freaked out a little when I had to leave the room for her assessment and, well, she didn’t perform exactly as I had hoped she would.
That’s an understatement. I’m sugar coating.
She flipped her fucking noodle and the teachers had to come and pull me out of a meeting with the other parents and the principal because she had completely gone to the zoo and no one could calm her down not even the people who wrangle 3 year olds for a living!
(But at least she didn’t shit herself.)
I had to go back to the room to calm her. She begged me to take her home, but I insisted on putting her through it anyway. And then, while the other kids were doing finger play (I always feel really dirty saying that) my kid decided to do them on her back with her legs spread open instead. Did I mention she was wearing a dress?
She eventually managed to lock it up after a while, and she built a puzzle upside down and backwards. She also blew the standardized assessment out of the water with her genius. But it was too late. The damage had been done.
So we left with that feeling Julia Roberts had in Pretty Woman when the snotty sales people kicked her out of the store. She HAD the money, they just didn’t THINK she had the money. I was home for only about an hour before the snot school principal called me to say that even though she’s “a smart little cookie” her “separation issues are concerning as (they) indicate that she is not prepared for the demanding environment of Henry Barnard School.”
SHE’S ONLY FUCKING TWO AND SHE’S NEVER BEEN LEFT ANYWHERE BEFORE IN HER LIFE!!!! OF COURSE SHE LOST HER SHIT!!!
Are you kidding me with this?
So that’s it. No snot school this year. Bring her back next year, they said.
Yeah, not after bitter mama spray paints FUCKTARD BARNYARD on the front door.
By the way, while I’m writing this, she just explained what blood pressure is to my husband. And she’s right. She can also explain leverage and the concept of having a base coat before you paint a wall. We didn’t teach her this stuff. She just knows it.
The Barnyard can take her off their list of Nobel prize winners they’ve turned out. The good news is that The Paint Box can add her on. Because that’s where she’s going. She liked that place better anyway.
So…what color are we painting the snot school?
Day-glow Pink or Barn Door Red?
I can’t decide.