So I told you guys that this post would take us back to high school. Had I known then what I am sure of now, life would have been much easier, but not necessarily as interesting. High school was rough for me because I had no self esteem and an overbearing (understatement) mother. She was a running joke at the school because without fail she would show up and for lack of a better word, invade my life. Needless to say, this made me look like a "mommy's-girl," which was not true in the least. I did everything I could to get me and my Geo Metro as far as I could from her. At one point I would show up at school before 7 am and not leave until after the last sports event around 9. The true story I am about to tell you is a mere shade of the crazy things she pulled on me during my teenage years.
Flashback to 2000- my junior year.
I was taking Home Economics, which had recently been given the more politically correct name of Family and Consumer Sciences. We'll just call it Chaos. Somewhere in February we started the "relationships and sex" section of FACS. Being that my class was 8 people (6 low achievers, my friend and I) we often had less scheduled classes. We were usually rowdy and often in trouble with the teacher, but never sent to the Principal. We had been looking forward to this section of the class for the whole semester! Being that we live in the midwest it was more about holding hands and abstinence than relationships and sex. Still, we got the chance to take home these robotic babies to prove we were not yet ready to procreate. (Mind you, two of the girls in the class were pregnant or already had a baby.)
There were 4 babies. 3 white babies and a black/asian one. I am assuming they were aiming (and missed) for a bi-racial baby. Anyway, the teacher thought it appropriate to give the odd baby out to me. Mind you, my mother is what I like to call "situationally racist." The day I was scheduled to take the baby for the weekend had slipped my mind and suddenly I had a black robot baby to take home to show my mother. This wasn't going to go well. I wasn't due home until late, so I figured I would just sneak it in after they were asleep. My car being tiny, I had to shove the car seat in the back. The baby looked freakishly real. I decided to visit a friend before the games began that night. I called and checked in with my mom. She was hysterical.
Jeeeeeaaannnn Annnnnnnn what have you done! (I'm really confused...has someone died?) You should have told us if you were "in trouble!" (Oh, GOD, she thinks I got pregnant and had a baby between 7 am and 4 pm today?) That *only black kid in my class* is the father, isn't he? (At this point I had to break in and explain.)
Why didn't they give you a white baby? (My mother assumes I am white, and refuses to acknowledge the other races in my lineage. I am adopted.) I'm going to have to talk to Mrs. *Home Ec Teacher* about this. I said ok, and she hung up.
What the teacher hadn't told me about my controversial (to my mother) baby is that it was EXTREMELY sensitive. If I looked at it wrong, it cried. Demons would have been jealous of that horrid baby's yowling. And it had a glitch. Normally those type of babies stop crying when you put a key in their back. (I know, that's so realistic, right? LOL) My baby would cry for two hours nonstop, then turn off. Key or no. I'm sure this didn't help my mother learn to be racially tolerant.
The next Monday morning, my mom followed me to school and went straight to the principal. Mrs. *Home Ec Teacher* gave my child a defective black baby! I want her to get full credit for this assignment because she was given the wrong baby. Mr. *Principal* had dealt with her before and quickly agreed to have the teacher award full credit. My mother can be a force to reckon with, and by this point all of my teachers usually just gave in.
Over that weekend I had gotten over 10 pointless racial lectures about dating. By the time the assignment was over, I was so scared of babies that I wanted nothing to do with sex until I was married.
Congrats Mrs. *Home Ec Teacher.* You knew exactly what you were doing.
-Kat Lady
Oh Jean...I kinda miss your mother. :)
ReplyDeleteIt's Hollie, by the way. One time it shows up Hollie, one time it shows up kc momma...I never know! :)
ReplyDeleteIf you want her, she's yours!
ReplyDeleteUmmmmm, nope, don't think so! :)
ReplyDelete