And the Winner is . . .

While Amylynn drives around our fine city playing the “Gas Game”, I play a game of another sort entirely.  It takes place in my mind and consists of coming up with an award that, of all the people in the world,  I am the only clear winner.  One of my favorites is the “Anti-Mom Award”.  I know there are quite a few of you out there that believe you are a contender – but you are NOT.  Tonight, I have sunk to an all time super star low or high – since I’m vying for a prize.

It’s the holidays and most of you who have children know that it’s “Holiday Concert” season at school.  You know the drill, you go sit in the auditorium at your kid’s school, along with all of the other parents and listen to a bunch of children sing, play instruments, cry or whatever.  You all show up with cameras, video recorders, grandparents, non-performing siblings, flowers, tissues and whatever else you can shoe horn into the car.

I never bring a camera, video recorder, grandparents, or whatever.  I always show up late and try to leave the second the last note leaves my child’s mouth or instrument.  The only part I listen to is my child, I refuse to listen to anyone else’s child because, really, I hardly want to hear my own let alone yours. 

Tonight, during the vast majority of the concert, I texted Amylynn.  I let her know that I was going to jam a pen in my ear.  Then I had to text back because I decided to jam a pen into BOTH ears.  I said a little prayer to god (the one who invented chocolate), the gods (the ones who invented chocolate with sea salt), ghosts (don’t ask) and Santa Claus, I really felt covered.  I asked to be stricken deaf – right then and there.  I must have been bad this year because it didn’t happen.

At the beginning of the event, the music teacher annouced really loudly that any child in the auditorium, who was not performing, was to sit quietly and not disturb the performance and was to be controlled by the parents.  Yea, right.  There were so many kids running around the gym that I thought it was lunchtime.  I yelled at several of them and their over dressed, over electroniced parents.  The only thing I hate worse then 4th and 5th graders singing holiday carols off-key is loud shrieking children. 

Before anyone gets ready to comment, I’m not interested in any advice.  I’m not going to change, ever.  I’m never going to look back on these ordeals and miss them.  When Ed says “Honey, let’s pull out the old video recordings I took at the kid’s holiday concerts while you were texting Amylynn” – I’m going to stab him in the ear with a pen.

And the winner is . . . drum roll please . . .   Ava Louis – Anti-Mom of All Time!