Picking the Goob Up From the Big School

I had a half-day of work which consisted of the Mass of the Holy Spirit for all of Oahu’s Catholic schools, then sitting through a presentation on Catholic identity. I hit the H3/H1/H2 trifecta on the way home and should have taken a nap. Instead, I got caught with Sports Center and by the time I came to, it was time to pick Madison up from school.

The parental equivalent of camping for shoes.

The parental equivalent of camping for shoes.

According to her teacher, Madison is a cheetah because she is a fast worker. Well, obviously, Madison's teacher hasn't seen her eat or get out of the car.

According to her teacher, Madison is a cheetah because she is a fast worker. Well, obviously, Madison’s teacher hasn’t seen her eat or get out of the car.

Solid end to Monday if Mad does say so herself.

Solid end to Monday if Mad does say so herself.

Lynnette gave me pretty simple instructions. “Madison’s room is Room D112.”

Transparency Note: I made the “Where the players dwell?” joke every single time Lynnette said the name of Madison’s classroom. After the seventh or so time of not getting a laugh – or even a scoff – I asked her if she knew what I was talking about. “No,” she said. “Oh,” I said. I then went on to explain it. She made a face that I know to mean “I have no time for this trivial and utterly useless information.” Saddened, I have continued to make the “where the players dwell” joke in hopes that it catches on.

When I told Lynnette I did not know where this building could be found (after asking if this classroom also doubled as the abode of those who view monogamous relationships unfavorably), she used her hands to direct me. What she didn’t tell me was that it was going to be a madhouse in the area in and around the school.

I should have known better; I work at a school. I know that when that final bell rings, it’s chaos in the parking lot. Somehow, that didn’t make it to my frontal lobe, or any other lobe for that matter. When I got to the school, cars lined the road in both directions, and I was forced to park in the residential area near across the street from the school. I finally got on campus and was about to ask a woman where Building D was until I saw a huge sign that read “Building D.” That’s when I saw the line.

Parents were lined up outside of Building D. I supposed such a crowd was probably for the kindergarteners, but 1) I hate crowds and 2) the end of the line was in the sun. I found a seat in the shade instead and waited. It’s not like I can judge them considering I write a blog primarily centered on my daughter which means I take pictures of even the most mundane non-events. But I will judge the architects of that building who decided to place the doors of four classrooms within about 360 square feet. Traffic. Jam. Of people. Telling their kids “Get your shoes.”

The bell rang. A real bell! Damien graduates know what I’m talking about. The adults in line went pouring into the building. I got to Madison’s door and told Mad’s teacher who I was there for. Madison was already ready already with her Mario Kart Princess Peach backpack. We exited the building before stopping to have Mad put on her shoes. “Do you want to go to the pool?” I asked.

I am sure you didn’t need the picture to guess what her answer was. I didn’t either. That’s why I packed the swimsuit and towels before I left the house.

I have a softball game tonight. First one since before summer started, I think. I see a lot of stretching in my future.

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