I am afraid of third grade March 26 2010, 0 Comments

This week, as part of my mom duties, I went to the elementary school and spent an hour in the boy’s class “helping.” The husband and I (that is a lie, this was my idea and the husband was happy to go along) decided to try this so we can better understand the math program. Third grade math is completely beyond me. I figured that time in the classroom might help make homework time less like an episode of “The Sopranos,” with the boy and the dad screaming obscenities at each other, while the dog and I hide downstairs under a desk. The girl is at the barn, oblivious.

Go to the classroom, hang out with the kids, it’s only an hour, no biggie, right? Well, for some reason, that one hour goes by slower than the Bataan Death March. Time stops. I look at the clock 314 times in 10 minutes. This week, I finally figured out why. I am afraid of third grade.

As my assigned hour approaches, I start getting nervous. I wait as long as possible to leave the house and strategically park the car as far away from the school as possible (that way I’ll get in some extra walking, 10,000 steps a day and all).

My first panicked moment comes when I can’t figure out how to enter the building, one I have visited hundreds of times in the last 12 years. You can open the front door, but are then locked into the space between the two sets of doors (is there a word for that space?). There are three glass doors in front of me, all locked. The third door has a button to press, but also a disabled sign. So, do I only press that button if I am disabled? There’s also a window in to the office, so that the entire office staff can plainly see me as I work feverishly to figure out how to get in the building. Keep reading at The Chronicle….