Hats Off to You

Earlier in the week I thought it would be fun to have lunch with Abby at school. She was having difficulty at drop-off time, and I figured having something to look forward to would help her get through the day. I picked Friday as the day for my mid-morning visit.

I found a parking spot near the school and gathered myself. Surprisingly, I was a little anxious! Because we were latecomers to the school, we never really got a tour. I wasn't even sure where the cafeteria was. At any rate, I checked in with the receptionist, announced that I was there for lunch with my daughter, and received a few "approving" looks from staffers. I grinned, feeling like a great mama.

Down the long locker-filled hallway I went, in search of Abby's classroom. Kids' art neatly decorated the walls, and I couldn't help thinking back to my school days.

Inside Abby's room were kids rushing to and fro preparing for lunch. I finally caught a glimpse of Ab - she was putting something away in her desk. Then she hopped over to line up, her pretty blond braid flopping up and down. She was busy chatting with two other girls in line. I was glad to see she had friends. She finally saw me peering through the door window, and we waved to each other like long lost friends.

Twenty-two kindergartners filed into the hall, and Abby and I walked hand-in-hand to the cafeteria. The menu consisted of chicken fried steak fingers, instant mashed potatoes, raw carrots and mixed fruit. Yum.

After navigating our way through the lunch line, we made our way over to her section of the room. I grabbed a folding chair and sat next to Abby. As the lunch period dragged on, the room got louder and louder and louder. It was like watching little ants. Actually, it was like watching 100 kids who had ants in their pants.

I managed to eat while being climbed on, doling out napkins, advising kids to sit on their tails, tattling on a girl for throwing a napkin, opening packets of ketchup, and answering random questions.

When the end of the lunch period came, Abby's teacher asked, "How was lunch?"

I half laughed, "It was an experience."

I quickly left the school, hanging my head low. I'm sure the same staffers I passed earlier noticed the gleam in my eyes and the pep in my step were now absent. I didn't look back to see if they were snickering.

I ain't cut out for elementary school. And that's OK with me.

But hats off to those who are.