I read the notes. I read the president's report on "School Fitness". I read the dip-shitty PTO notes, the one's that justify the magazine ordering request forms. The ones that explain why it's perfectly fine to let sales men into the classroom to show off the 3-D Scoobie Doo t-shirts and the coveted sponge-bob telephones . . . YOU TOO COULD WIN!, if friends and family order enough magazine subscriptions and YOUR name is drawn!
I ask "how was your day" and when it appears kid is too tired or distracted to answer, I ask again, first commercial break after "Teen Titans". I mix it up, so I won't seem too preassuring and neurotic. I ask, "So. . . how's it going?" And still I know nothing about the children my children go to school with until Valentine's Day comes around and a list of names are sent home.
Awais wants to know if he has to give a Valentine to Derrick. And I ask "Who's Derrick and why don't you want to give him a Valentine?"
Apparantly, Derrick is a kid who likes to correct Awais and likes to say that he (Awais) says things that he doesn't say.
"Oh, yeah?" I ask.
"Yes.", Awais answers.
"And what does the teacher say?"
"She says. . . well, it doesn't matter because Derrick doesn't sit at my table anymore".
"Really?" I ask. I'm looking at Awais trying to summon the unguarded truth from him- the stuff I used to be privy to, once upon a time.
"Uhhhh, yeah. "
I tell Awais he has to give everyone in his class a Valentine, but maybe we can find an ugly one for Derrick.
"A horse-butt Valentine" Awais suggests.
"Absolutely". It feels as if this is as close as I can come to actively being on his side.
At the store Awais gets excited about the Spiderman Valentines; his desire to spread good overwhelming his desire to diss Derrick.
There are two friends who will get the larger valentines, with green apple lollipops, Awais' favorites. Also, Awais fills out a smaller Valentine for himself "to Awais, from Awais and attaches an apple lollipop with the surgical tape I keep carrying home in my pockets.
A bunch of kids are called "acquaintances" and I don't know what to make of that. I call out a name for him to copy over and ask, as casual as possible "and so what about Her? Him?"
"How about that Sara? That Grace? That William?" "How about them?".
I've gotten two friends, one enemy and a bunch of "acquaintances".
Not so bad.
"I'm going to give this one to Derrick", Awais announces.
"You're a hit! Valentine! . . . It's got the word "hit" in it."
"Oh, that's good." I tell him.
"no, wait" he says a second later. "I want to give him this one."
"With Great Friends Comes A Great Valentine's Day".
I don't get it at first. And then I do and I'm both impressed and a bit panicked by this kid of mine.
Oooo! cold! (Although I don't say that) "So . . . he's doesn't have any friends?" I ask him.
"Nah, he has a . . . LOT of friends.
"Just not . . .go' . . ? " In the last minute, I switch directions with that question, deciding to back off.
Passive Aggressive, but the good, clean, honest type, is what I tell myself.
None of that guilt ridden, hidden from one's self type P&A- the resentment that turns to self loathing that settles into a nasty addiction . . . or perhaps an OCD type of perfection that broils to an unredeemable episode of road rage?
A few months ago Awais started a diary. I haven't tried to read his diary because Awais once showed it to me and I found I couldn't read his handwriting.
Awais read it out loud to me. "Bennett. I hate him".
"Really?" I asked. "Who's Bennett. Why do you hate him?"
"He's just this kid", Awais told me.
"I don't really hate him", Awais explained, "I'm just jealous of him. He's nice and everyone likes him".
For that reason I imagine that Derrick is a real pain in the ass.
I should have found a horse-butt valentine for Derrick. You know there has to be some out there.
