It's Tricky (with apologies to Run DMC)

"I met this little girlie, her hair was kinda curly"

Every weekday, my daughter brings home a backpack full of stuff. It typically contains:
  • Her lunchbox, including the napkin I always add when I pack her lunch. The napkin never shows any signs of having been used. WHERE DOES SHE WIPE HER HANDS?  Never mind, I don't want to know.
  • Hat, gloves (on a good day, a matched set), and snow boots
  • Whatever contraband she took to school. I feel like we need to start frisking her in the mornings - we should throw her against the minivan and pat her down. Contraband usually includes those ugly Monster High dolls, stuffed animals, Polly Pockets, hair accessories, dollar bills, and other random items.
  • A clear envelope containing books and a reading log sheet.
  • A purple take-home folder containing math homework and any other assignments.
  • A blue assignment book. Each day, she writes down her homework assignments (typically, a math worksheet and 25 minutes of reading) in the blue book. Sometimes there is a note letting us know that library books are due on Monday and that sort of thing. The teacher checks it off daily.
Each evening before bedtime, I find the blue book, confirm that the assignments were done, and then sign my name at the bottom of the page. Occasionally I include a little note on the page if there is something I think her teacher should know.  One day, the kid didn't like what I wrote so . . . she erased it.  The little shit thinks she's so crafty. I'm smarter than I look, so I started using a pen thereafter. 

Fast forward to yesterday. The kid was assigned to read the first three chapters of a specific book. Most of the time she can read whatever she wants, but this was an assignment for her reading group.  She did not bring the assigned book home.  So, after a bit of a tantrum (apparently it was somehow our fault that she didn't bring home the correct book), she read a different book. I signed the blue book and included a note for her teacher. I stated that my daughter did not bring home the correct book and then signed my name.

As I was tucking the kid into bed a bit later, I told her that I included a note for Mrs. C.  She frowned at me in the dark.  "Did you . . . " she started, " . . . write it in pen?" 

"Yes, I wrote it in pen, Goober."  I could almost hear the gears in her brain clicking and whirring. "You won't be able to erase it," I told her. 

She sighed, sounding very defeated indeed. Not totally convinced that she still wouldn't find a way to make that note disappear, I sent her teacher an email. Ha! Mean mom cannot be stopped!

I mentioned this incident to my sisters via email. My middle sister and baby sister both admitted to some fraudulent note-writing in high school that got them out of school back in the day. My baby sister even confessed to having a particularly mature-sounding boyfriend call the school to say his "daughter" couldn't make it in.  Mom, if you are reading this, I just want you to know that I never did these things. I want them both punished!

Ten bucks says that my daughter is practicing my signature right frickin' now. 

She's tricky

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