I'm Not Going to Do Any of That

Sisters, the time is upon us, the time of reckoning. If called to be a Room Mom, will you answer? 'Cause I ain't. (If you've arrived here by Googling "room mom," please click on my room mom tag and avail yourself of last year's room mom saga. Amongst all the minor drama, there are some good ideas.)

Remember Jan, my co-room mom from last year? I know she was a favorite with some of you. Well, guess whose child is in Laura's class again? So we don't have to say goodbye to Jan after all. A couple of weeks ago, when I got Laura's teacher assignment in the mail, I sent out an email to all the parents of last year's class to say, "Hey, let's all tell where our kids are going." Jan wrote to me to say that her daughter and Laura will be together this year, and to ask me if I was thinking of room momming again, and would I like to do it with her again, because we were such a good team. She said, "Plus, if I don't look busy, my hubby will make me go back to work!" Then she favored me with an emoticon.

I won't lie. I missed her over the summer. I missed her insecurity masked with brittle spunkiness; I missed her free-flowing, oversharing, email-epic confessions; I missed her way with a smiley face. I told her that I wasn't going to be a room mom again, but that I would back her candidacy.

So at open house, when Laura and I went in to meet the teacher, I only signed up for some minor duty--I think at some appointed hour I'm supposed to think happy thoughts about the class or something--but I remarked on Jan's name on the room mom list. To Mrs. H, the teacher, I said, "Oh, Jan is great! I was co-room mom with her last year. She does crafts!" And Mrs. H got a gleam in her eye and thanked me for that bit of information. Then I broke my own Rule for Ladies--Never Apologize, Never Explain--and said, "I need to take a break this year, I've got my hands full." Which is Southern-speak for anything from "This would interfere with my bunco" to "My husband is the governor of South Carolina and also we have bedbugs." So Mrs. H clucked and demurred like, "Honey, don't fuss yourself!"

So I got my absolution and we're cool. And Jan is in line to help pull off another year of wall-to-wall crafts, auction baskets, and melon kabobs. God bless us, everyone!