This morning I got out of bed and sleep walked to my espresso maker as I do every morning. I pressed the button to turn it on and got no reaction. I unplugged it and plugged it again and got no reaction. At this point I’m waking up because panic is taking over my body. “No, no, no! Come on baby stay with me, stay with me”. But after trying for a few minutes I got a flat line. It had decided to quit on me. Do you all know what this means? Anyway, I managed to make the kids breakfast and take them to school. As I walked into the school campus, I remembered I needed to speak to my son’s teacher. I will refer to him as Mr. You. I went up to him and tried to make eye contact but, those of you that know him know that’s close to impossible. So I went on and started to talk to him just to get interrupted by him and blown off. “Yeah yeah I know…blah blah blah” he says as he walks away from me.
Now, you all remember that my morning had, up to that point, been traumatic enough. My espresso maker is dead and I’m still seeing in black and white. I haven’t had my coffee, right? As he walks away I can feel my heart beating out of my chest and all I want to do is follow his behind and give him a piece of my mind. I mean I got tunnel vision, it was like if hulk was about to appear, but instead, I walked away.
Mr. You is a very interesting being. He has a way of communicating that I still don’t understand and, quite frankly, I don’t care to. I know he is a “good teacher” and all, but man…
It is very difficult to communicate with him and more so for my Dominican self.
So with my tragic loss and communication glitch you can conclude that my morning was indeed a challenging one.
To my espresso machine, I’m sorry I worked you to your max. You and I were really good together. I won’t forget how warmly you greeted me every morning and afternoon- it was like you were saying “Ciao Bella” in a sexy Italian accent, every time. You were very important to me. However, I need to move on. I grieved for an hour or two and now I need to move on to a better you. It’s time for an upgrade. And like Beyonce would say “I’m gonna upgrade ya” 😛
As per Mr. You, well…
I’m sorry you don’t like talking to parents. But guess what Mr. You, I will talk to you anyway. I will walk behind you and continue to talk to you when you walk away from me. I will ask as many times as I need to until I get my answer. I will repeat myself twenty seven million times whenever you pull the “I don’t understand what you’re saying because of your accent” card. You see, God has entrusted me with my son’s life. I’m responsible for raising a man of integrity and honor. My kids are my most precious possession and I would do ANYTHING to ensure their well being. Besides, you should be thanking the heck out of me for making your job a lot easier. I reteach my son everything you “teach” him. The reason your scores are so high is because of parents like me. Parents who care and are involved. Parents who ask and ask and ask questions just like I do. It is for you to endure me, not the other way around.
So for now, ciao Mr. You.
I will now raise a glass to celebrate and welcome my new love who is coming home in about two hours. My new upgrade espresso machine. Cheers!
Til next time