Some people, including teachers, believe that a mother's love for her child is directly proportional to the fact that she made something for him with her own hands.
For example, I can't bake. Not at all. It just so happens that I'm not good at it. I'm a good cook, but I'm not good at baking. And I don't like the fuss about cake. So I'm just annoyed when people think that for all holidays, especially birthdays, you have to make your own cake for your child. And recently there was a scandalous incident at my son's school!
Jacuś is in the second grade. Last year, all the parents organized a ceremony to end the first grade, and the children were delighted. We decided to make it a tradition and repeat it every year. At the meeting, where we discussed the format of the event and decided how much money to collect, a heated discussion broke out. The mothers – most of whom are unemployed – listed what sweet homemade dishes they would bring, in addition to what would be bought.
– What are you going to bake? – our teacher Krystyna asked me with a smile.
-First of all, I work, and secondly, I don't like to bake and I don't know how to. I'll bring a good and healthy cake for the children – I know a place where they make good ones – I replied. The teacher looked at me with surprise, as if I had surprised her with something, and just shrugged. On the day of the ceremony, I dressed Jacek, took him to school and rushed to work. A few hours later I was rushing to the bakery for a fruit cake to make it to school on time. The classroom was already decorated with ribbons and balloons, and music was playing.
On the shifted tables lay delicacies for the children, and the mothers shared recipes for cakes and cookies, of which there were plenty. I carefully removed the cake box and asked one of the mothers where to put it.
-Bring it here, bring it here! – another mother shouted at me, while my interlocutor shrugged. We put the cake on the table and went to take our seats – the concert prepared by our children was about to begin. My son took part in funny sketches about how they behave in class. We had practiced his role at home for a long time, so I knew all the words by heart. My son did great – he wasn't shy, didn't get lost, didn't forget anything. I clapped loudly with my parents and laughed.
After the concert, the background music started playing again, and the children rushed to the table with treats. Only at this age can sweets bring so much pleasure! I sat quietly in the corner of the classroom and every now and then I filmed my son and everything that was happening on my cell phone. I don't like these meetings with parents – I have nothing to talk about with these mothers, we are only here for our children. At one point, the teacher approached me and asked to talk. However, it was not a conversation, but a lecture about how while I was sitting there, other mothers were running after their children's butts and wiping them vigilantly, picking up thrown food from the floor, and most importantly, bringing their own baked goods.
I was simply furious at what I heard. Her job is to teach our children, not to bother parents with her controversial theories. I will somehow figure out what is more important to my son. And I don't have to buy his love with cakes! I love him to pieces, and my son knows and feels it perfectly.
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