How 'bout a helping of brains with your turkey?

A week or so ago my husband and I joined our younger son at his elementary school for a Thanksgiving lunch in the school cafeteria. We've had two children attend this elementary school and the Thanksgiving lunch is something we've done in years past.

 

Only this year it was different. As the three of us arrived at our table and sat down one of my son's classmates burst into tears. He was seated next to me, I asked him what was up. "My parents aren't here!" Okay, no problem. "I'll go check and see if they are signed up for the lunch," I told him as I got up and made my way to the sign-in table in the school's foyer.

 

Arriving at the table I inquired if this particular student's parents, or any other person, had signed up for the lunch. I gave the students name to the woman at the table. "No, they aren't signed up." Okay. No problem. We'll just take him under our wing for the lunch. It'll be fine.

 

I was about to turn from the table, but this woman wasn't done, "To be PC, his parents don't come to things." Huh? I was puzzled. I stared blankly. The woman tried again, "To be PC, his parents aren't the type of people to come to things in the middle of the day." Again I stared at her, turned my gaze to the teacher seated beside her and said "Our family will include him with us and we'll get through it. I'll also let his teacher know he was upset."

 

I came back to the table and explained to the boy that his parents had not signed up for the lunch and unlike school where each day has the same schedule, grownups may have different things going on every day. Sometimes grownups work far away from home or a meeting pops up. The boy told me his parents professions and I explained that both of those jobs have a great deal of responsibility, but don't have a lot of flexibility to adjust for leaving work in the middle of the day. No one at our table pretended not to notice his parents weren't there, but at the same time no one created an environment of questioning their absence either.

 

As we ate, we discussed the type of work we do, what his parents do, are we all staying in town or going away for Thanksgiving weekend, and how the hell did I luck out getting a double helping of green beans instead of the mashed potatoes. A side dish everyone agreed could easily be served in the art room for papier-mache projects.

 

After lunch I hopped in my car and called Aviva. I told her about the experience at the school and how baffled I was regarding the remark that woman had made to me in reference to the classmate's parents. "Why on earth would she preface it with 'To be PC about it...' What was that all about?" Aviva knowingly replied, "Well, you know. His parents might be nocturnal and she didn't want to say it." I considered this for a moment, "Oh shit. I bet you're right. His parents must be vampires." Aviva continued, "Do you have a lot of undead at your son's school?" I racked my brain trying to think if we did. "No. I think they may be the only ones."  Then I sat there for a minute trying to figure it all out. "OMG!" I exclaimed to Aviva, " Now it all makes sense! That poor woman was just trying to figure out a nice way to let me know the boy is adopted or a foster child. I mean, he must be. Otherwise he'd definitely be home-schooled in the evenings. There's no way he would have been able to go to school at daybreak!"

 

I wish I had made that connection earlier. There's nothing wrong with being a Vampire. In fact, creatures of the night are really "in" right now. I would have been more than happy to admit I am actually a Zombie, as is my husband, and while we mainly roam the earth at night, we have the option of also walking among the living during daylight hours. Something Vampires just can't do safely. Being Zombies, we're already dead, so it's just a different life (or death) circumstance. Then I could have asked for a helping of brains instead of more beans.

 

It's not PC to categorize anyone as a monster for missing an event at school-day or night- regardless of the reason. Instead, let's focus on being compassionate when a child says they miss their mummy, daddy or anyone else.

We're all living in an era of trying to be superhuman, we shouldn't be afraid to help each other out when we see the signal is shining. There may come a time when you might have to leap tall buildings in a single bound, miss the Thanksgiving lunch and hope another hero will be on hand to swoop in and save the day.

 

And with that, my work here is done.

 

Devra can be found writing at Parentopia  and in person she likes to yell out,"There's no need to fear, Underdog is here" because that's just how she rolls.