A Christmas tradition at good ole AF High School is for the Student Body Officers to each perform a dare in front of all the students if the school raises enough money for the annual sub-for-santa fundraiser. This year they far exceeded their goals, and so the SBO dares were set in motion. Let me just share some of those dares:
* Eating a plate full of jalapeno peppers
* Swallowing (and chewing) live goldfish
* Being shot at close range with paint balls
* Eating a dog food and a cat food sandwich
* Licking, yes, I said LICKING, the entire perimeter of the gym
*Or how about having 10 people brush their teeth and spit in a cup and then drinking that cup?
I am not kidding.
Kara, at dinner one night, said, "Mom, I don't think you're going to let me do my dare." I replied, "Probably not if it's anything like the others I have heard about." She hesitated and then said, "My dare is going to school for one entire day handcuffed to MY MOTHER!" I immediately said, "I'll do it!" I would have done just about anything to assist my daughter in avoiding some of those other dares.
I knew the purpose of this dare was to embarrass her, so the question became "What should I wear?" We discussed several options. How about my pajamas and big fuzzy slippers? Old lady clothes? My threadbare duster? As we were talking, still at the dinner table, with each suggestion Tyler's face grew more horrified. "You CANNOT wear that! You wouldn't DARE wear that!" Just for fun we threw out the idea of me wearing a sign that said 'I'm Tyler's mom too!' At that he just got up and walked out, completely unable to handle the conversation any further.
We tried on several outfits, practiced an annoying walk in case we walked by Tyler in the hall, and finally decided to go matchy matchy with coordinating side ponytails.
And then we headed off to High School...together, hand in hand cuffed hand.
I felt like I was stepping back in time.
Waaaay back in time.
Our first class was World Religions (Kara's very favorite class). I knew my purpose was to embarrass her and so I whispered in her ear that I wanted a picture in every single class. Why I wanted one, I don't know. I really really don't suit a side pony tail.
Now, I am a person who likes to multi-task, and the week before Christmas is a very busy time, so I had brought my backpack along filled with stuff to do. During this class I was getting a little bored (it was kind of over my head anyways, all that deep ancient religious stuff) so I pulled out my Christmas newsletter to work on.
And I totally got in trouble!
The teacher stopped right in the middle of his lecture and pointed out that he doesn't let his students work on anything during a lecture. The class was silent as I sheepishly stuffed my papers back into my backpack. It totally brought back memories of when my Spanish 3 teacher duct-taped my mouth shut for talking too much (By the way, Kara just informed me that she too has had her mouth duct-taped shut by a teacher!).
After I survived my tongue-lashing we shuffled out into the hall. Kara told me we were in what all the students called the "Birth Canal." I was fascinated. And so, of course, I pulled out my camera and started taking pictures of the birth canal. She was mortified. She looked at me and said, "You're like a TOURIST in high school." And that's exactly what I was. A tourist. And what tourist wouldn't want a picture of the famous Birth Canal Hall? I know I sure did. And I definitely got one; in fact, I got plenty.
We were eventually pushed out of the dreaded birth canal and made our way into the front office where Kara has to do the announcements each day. I was very obedient and sat very quietly as she carried out her Student Body responsibilities. After my mishap in the first class I didn't want any more trouble.
Because we had to do announcements, we were late to our next class: Foods. It is awkward enough to walk into a class late, it is beyond awkward when you walk in late handcuffed to your mother dressed like a child from the 80's. But Kara was taking it all in stride. I lucked out because in Foods it was a free lab. Kara's group was making grilled cheese sandwiches and chocolate chip cookies (Weird combo, but OK). We donned our aprons and began to cook.
I really couldn't believe this class. It was nothing like the Foods classes I took in High School. Look at that! Tablecloths and place mats. They even had an ice dispenser machine. It was awesome.
Here is our cooking group. Kara was once again mortified when apparently I asked the big, popular, cute basketball star to snap this here picture for us. Embarrassing! How was I supposed to know?
After this class I really really had to go to the bathroom. Are you kidding? I usually have a bladder of steel and according to all of my kids, you never use the school bathroom. We devised a plan. We walked into the bathroom and then quickly unlocked ourselves with the special key I had tucked in my backpack for just such an emergency. I took care of business and then we hooked back up. What we didn't anticipate was all the people who saw us walking out of the bathroom handcuffed together. They were looking at us kind of weird. We quickly headed down the hall avoiding any and all eye contact.
Our next class was AP English. I was pleasantly surprised to find out we were having a white elephant party and that my sweet Kara had brought a present for me to contribute so that I could participate. Of course I drew lucky #1 , so up we went to pick the first gift. I didn't end up with what I picked first, but that is OK because I love what I got.
Here is my gift.
"Shave with me Barbie," compliments of Kara's teacher (That is real hair under her arm and on her legs, don't ask me how. Sick!). I obviously had to show everyone who we talked to after this class my big win. They were equally disgusted and interested. Kara was, once again, embarrassed at my excitement over my hairy barbie.
Apparently, these days in High School, you don't eat lunch at lunch time. You just hang out by the lockers and talk. This got boring to me after a while so I pulled Kara away and told her we needed to go find Tyler who had sworn he was going to eat in a different place because he was literally dying at the thought of me being at his school, and dying even more at the thought of actually seeing us. It took some time, but we found him and suceeded in embarasssing him practically to death.
It was great.
We then had only a few minutes to frantically finish our homework before AP Calculus. Here, I am acting like I am helping. Yeah right. Me and math. I don't think so (see, I told you they don't eat).
Here we are in our last class of the day, AP Calc. I was blown away. How are these kids so smart? How do they even understand what this man is talking about? It has definitely been a long, long time since my days in Senior Math where we learned how to balance a checkbook. Those were the good old days.
So, what did I learn from my day at High School? I learned my daughter is a flirt, just like I was back in the day. I learned that she is kind and friendly to EVERYONE, to Sophomores, Juniors, and Seniors. To nerds and pops and jocks and all those somewhere in betwen. To her brother and his friends and to boys with beards (I'm serious-full on fluffy beards!). I learned that my girl has awesome teachers and that she truly enjoys school and learning. And I learned that it is really uncomfortable to be in handcuffs ALL day long. Seriously uncomfortable.
The last thing we heard as we walked out of the school together was one girl saying to another girl, "I would literally shoot myself if I had to go to school with my mom."
We smiled as our handcuffs happily jingled on our way out the doors of the High School. Kara wasn't going to shoot herself, nope, not at all. It had been a good day. Actually, a really good day for all 3 of us. A great girl, her old mom, and a stubble-ridden barbie.
I would recommend it to every parent.
I think I'll go ask Tyler what day he wants me to come. This time it will be pj's and fuzzy slippers for sure! I may even throw in some hair curlers just to be funny!
He will probably DIE laughing.
