This morning I attended a parents-teacher meeting at my daughter’s school. Once in a few weeks, the teacher invites the parents to these meetings in order to inform them about their offspring's’ development.
Each time I attend one of these meetings, I feel like an outsider. I look at the other parents, mostly mothers, with two exceptions, and I find myself so different than them. Different from possible points of view.
First of all, I am much younger than any of them. I guess they all had their kids in their early forties. Secondly, they always talk about their work, as if nothing else is more important. I assume they define themselves by their work. Who knows? Today, before the teacher came and interrupted them, they were talking about the personal tax planning Laval.
Thirdly, they always have a posh look. I have never seen them, not even once, wearing something casual. These “working mothers” are wearing high-heels, and pay a lot of attention to their physical appearance. I doubt that they ever wear sneakers or sport pants.
In addition, despite the fact that they all seem to be part of the “middle class” or “upper middle class”, I had never seen them doing anything for the school. When we had the bake sale, the raffle or the themed party, none of them showed up to give a hand to the teacher.
Once the meeting was done, I had two hours left until I. was finishing her classes. Instead of going home, I decided to go shopping and get my daughter’s Xmas gift. I knew what she wanted and that I could have got it from either the mall or the Canadian Tire shop, in the toy section.
Since the mall was closer to her school, I went there to get her present. I also got some sweets from a bakery I found on my way. I got back at school right on time. She was very surprised to see that I was waiting for her. She wasn’t expecting me. She thought that she would find me at home, after riding the school bus for twenty minutes.
As she was entering the car, she told me that she got a role in a new school play. She seemed to be very excited about it. After she had put her seat belt on, I offered her some of the pastry treats I had bought earlier. She refused me politely, saying she would eat it after lunch.