My phone rang the other day. I am not a big phone talker. I think I used up my lifetime allotment of phone enjoyment from 8th to 10th grade when I could genuinely spend 12 hours talking to my friends. About what? Boys I'm sure. And if I was talking to a boy, it was probably about other boys. Anyway, I didn't recognize the number and let it go, then picked up the message right away. I wasn't doing anything else. Just waiting for effing bleeping Barney to be over so my life could continue.
Turned out it was THE call. The first call from Genea's school. I couldn't believe it. My stomach actually started convulsing like there was a Turbie Twist in there. It was a man mumbling, all I heard was "school liaison officer" and "return this call" and I am thinking, what the hell grade school has a police officer stationed in it? Oh great, the answer is my kids grade school! Let me tell you, nothing scrapes the "adult" off you faster than a call from the school. Suddenly, I am a teenager back in high school and in trouble for something I most likely did.
My first reaction is, omg, what on earth could she have done??? Something really bad of course, or the teacher would have called. Or the principal. Running through my mental list of Genea's known offences and potentially illegal activity, all I can think of is she must have stolen something expensive. She could have hit someone, but quite frankly if she were driven to that extent, well, the recipient would have been deserving.
My hands are shaking, literally shaking, and not from too much coffee. I felt genuinely nervous making the call back, which I did right away. Here is what happened. The officer told me that Genea was driven around the building to be dropped off at her entrance door for the start of school. When asked, Genea reported it was her Daddy that drove around. Driving around the school is not permitted as established by all the huge freaking signs everywhere and oh yeah, the blockades. But the officer was nice about it, and said Genea's Daddy probably just did not notice all the flashing lights, signs and machine gun toting service personnel (no not really but it adds to the story, ya' know) and cement barricades.
There you have it. Our first, dreaded call from the school was about Genea's Daddy. Breaking the rules. His excuse was he was late. Yeah.