Cincoth of MayPosted in School, Socialization By Single Dad On May 5, 2010
I know very little about Mexico. I have enough problems with American history, don’t start asking me about General Ignacio Zaragoza Seguín and his victory over the French (I knew I liked him) in the Battle of Puebla. Hell, I was just a kid back in 1862 … It is also very unfortunate that the only person I know from said country turned out to be a miscreant, a theif and a whore (yes, I can back that up). I have nothing against our neighbors to the south, would like very much to visit there, and although I will gladly drink their alcohol with them, I will pass on most of the food. Yet, today, we celebrate with them.
I get an email inviting me to Pearlsky’s classroom’s Cinco de Mayo lunchtime celebration. Now, mind you, I usually eat lunch at the same pizza shop everyday, the same one where I am weary of the retarded looking chef, and where I think I get food poisoning about four times a year (yes, don’t say it, I know what you are thinking about me …). But today, instead, I am invited to the classroom where Pearlsky and her classmates are making lunch! Tacos, guacamole, repeatedly fried beans, etc.
I get to the classroom and I see the teacher, Pearlsky’s aide, and … and … no Pearlsky. I look at the teacher and she says “Oh, she’s getting her meds by the nurse.”
So I go across the hall and walk into the nurse’s office. Down the hall I see two nurses and a male aide hovering over Pearlsky. They look up at me in unison.
She’s not that big, is there a problem?
Oh no, I just heard Mary having a bit of trouble giving the meds so I came to help. She’s being rather persnickety today.
That’s not the word we use at home.
I don’t know what the problem was, I asked for the oral syringe. Getting down on one knee, I pull down on the wheelchair handles so that Pearlsky is completely horizontal (the whole chair is tilted back, the back of her seat on my thigh) and I give her the 20cc in one swallow. The nurses and aide are stunned.
It reminds me of one day when she was in preschool or so. I got there to take her to a doctor’s appointment at lunch time and they were feeding her. The teacher was gingerly using the spoon, tickling Pearlsky’s lip with it, balancing it on her tongue, etc. It was taking a long time, we were late. I asked if I could finish feeding her.
You know what happened. In thirty seconds I had the whole thing down her. I looked at them and said …
You may do it right in school, I get it done. Gotta go, thanks.
Anyway, I digress.
The coffee was from a single estate Brazilian arabica dry processed bean and a combination of dark and medium roasts. It was wonderful. The casadias, tacos, guacamole, beans and lemon-limeade were, well, made by the students.
These things are really tough. I walk through the high school among all the students that should represent my kids. I go into the classroom where Pearlsky is, by far, the most “involved.” I smile while the kids show their parents what they did to help with the meal. Well, smile on the outside.
It was ok. Pearlsky was all smiles when I came in. We hung out. The coffee gave me a buzz (“Always carry a big mug,” is what my epitaph may say).
I went back to work. But I did stop on the way for a slice of pizza.
I must say I like the A-side of this Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass’s 45, “Spanish Flea” better!
Enjoy the holiday.
(Wish I could enjoy the music, but I am on silent mode just now.)
From the land of General Zaragosa’s birth, I enjoyed your version of anything Mexican – esp the spelling.
Back when you posted on physical pleasure – did you mention food? Don’t remember…Like there are different meanings for ‘walking’ there different meanings for eating (see my series on eating if you want to know more – I won’t be offended if you don’t).
I nearly fell off my chair laughing at your telling of Pearlsky’s day in preschool, when you came in to take her out for her appointment, but first had to feed her the remainder of her lunch. The school and myself will take our time in feeding my daughter, as I “think” she needs to have smaller bites and more time between. My husband and most notably Camryn’s (my daughter) FAVORITE person in the world, her Daddy, can shovel it in her at the speed of light!