I might have said once or thirty times that I am not a big fan of our school's PTA. This is not because I don't appreciate the wonderful things that they do to raise money for our school, I most certainly do recognize and appreciate that. The problem with our PTA is that it seems to attract a very specific type of woman and this type of woman is not my favorite. In fact, I think it's fair to say that if this type of woman were a man, I'd punch her in the junk.
You know the type of woman that I'm talking about; the type with too much time on her hands, lots of gossip to spread and just enough of a mean streak to spread it freely. She will sidle up to Mother A at Spaghetti Wingo Night to mine a nugget of deeply personal information out of her and by the time Family Fun Night comes around, Mothers B-Z have heard the entire story in rich detail. In a word they are cliquey, klatschy, crappy.
Generally speaking, I avoid these women like herpes. In the beginning of the year, I make a financial contribution and then I lift my giant rock like Patrick Star and I get under it for the duration. Unfortunately, over the last school year, I had to interface with these sea hags of the educational system and as usual the experience has left me full of piss and vinegar. My least favorite PTA moment of the prior school year - Lip Sync Night.
Yeah, you heard me, Lip Sync Night. Don't look at me with that puzzled look on your face. If you don't know what that is, you spend more time under your rock than I do. This is a matter of critical national importance! It's code red! It's under media scrutiny! IT'S LIP-EFFING-SYNC!!!!!!!! You clearly don't get the gravity of the situation. Allow me to illuminate. . .
My daughter has participated in Lip Sync night for past three years and this year, she really didn't want to do it. Unfortunately, one of her good friends insisted that she join and being the 12 year old girl that she is, she caved to the pressure of the queen bee.
When rehearsals began, we received a very detailed, typed schedule of practices, shortly after that, the costume requirements came home. They consisted of shorts, tank top, black tee shirt, leg warmers,nude pantyhose, gauntlets (fingerless gloves) and black converse sneakers. This little outfit ran us in the neighborhood of $150.00, but listen up people, IT'S LIP SYNC NIGHT!
As practice wore on, we started to get performance notes home about our daughter's efforts at Lip Sync practice. Apparently, there were some issues with the way she was fake singing. She was behind a step here, she didn't seem to have memorized the words to the second verse, she was moving to the back row a half a beat too soon, etc. It was about this time that I wanted to call the mother up and say, "Listen up Fosse, lay off the Dexedrine and lay off my kid!". But instead, we took the notes and promptly filed them in the shitter where they belonged and never mentioned it to the kid.
Fast forward to Lip Sync night. As we pulled up to the school, we had to fight our way through throngs of paparazzi and a deep layer of security to get in. We found our way to our glamorous, gum covered seats in the auditorium and quickly scanned the program to see where our daughter's group was - fifth in a field of 53. Thanks to the collective deities of the universe for that small favor. I had sat through all three hours of the past two years for our daughter's two minute performance. Being the mother of an outgoing 6th grader gave me the gravitas to bolt out under cover of darkness after her performance. I was through being polite. We left and went food shopping. We had a neighbor text us when the finale started and we went back and got her.
As we were walking out, my daughter turned to me and said "Do you remember my friend Jamie from Kindergarten?" "The one whose mother was PTA president?" I replied, trying not to have my voice drip with too much venom. "Yea, that's her. Well her mother hired a professional choreographer for her group." Dumbstruck, I failed to respond, I simply stopped in my tracks with my mouth hung open like a trout. My daughter looked back at me with a devilish grin and a gleam in her eye, knowing that she had stunned the unstunnable.
Early this month I sent my daughter off to Jr High School. I have my concerns about the next couple of years as Jr High is a time of discovery and experimentation for many teenagers. It has more freedom , more stress and more homework than elementary school, but you know what it doesn't have? Lip Sync night. I think it's going to be OK after all.