So, I went to Squish's volunteer tea today--which was lovely. It's an event thrown by the PTA and the teachers to say thanks for volunteering, and I felt like such a fraud--I'm only there a couple of times a year but Squish's teacher is so kind-- she asked, and I showed.
Well, I parked myself in the way back--the mercenary's spot, I call it. Back to the wall, space on either side, can see everything.
And then the choir filed in, right behind me.
Anyway, Squish was in the choir-- and I'd asked her if she needed her blue shirt and she said no, and I was right and she was wrong.
But it didn't matter.
Because. Look at that picture above. You all know what she looks like by now-- bright red hair, taller than almost everyone in the 4th grade?
But these are fourth, fifth, and sixth graders, and there IS a little red-haired girl here, but she's not Squish.
I sent that picture to Mate, and he texted back, I don't see her.
So I cropped the picture. See there? Behind the kid with the Marvel shirt, and the kid behind him with the blue shirt, there is an arm in a pink sweatshirt.
I sent it to Mate, with directions.
I still don't see it. You're making her up.
So the irony here?
I got there, all suave, thinking I was setting myself up to hide in the back, right?
And my kid is a better spy than I am, in the fourth grade, with hair like a sunrise.
And the music wasn't bad either.
Oh yeah-- before I went? I got my toes done. The woman in the chair next to me was a former teacher--she knew Squish's choir teacher, and was thrilled to hear we had a string program. She has some resources to offer the new teacher. I did that. Making the world better one pedicure at a time. (We won't discuss my eyebrows though. What happened to my eyebrows does nothing good for anybody. Saying.)
So... do you see her yet?