Start of a new Chapter

When my daughter was born, I can remember telling her mom that the hardest part for me was going to be the day she started school. Having to entrust someone with my baby girl. Well, today was that day. Granted, it was only preschool, but the thought of her being out of me and her moms sight, was nerve racking.

As we walked towards the front of the school, I could see on her face that she was a little unsure what was going on. I couldn’t tell if i was holding her hand, or if she was holding mine for comfort. As we walked through the doors numerous kids were scattering around like cockroaches with the light on. She looked up at me as to say “you see this shit?”.

We made our way to her classroom and the teacher welcomed her with open arms. The paraeducator was someone i went to college with, so that was a relief. It’s a bilingual class which i like because she’ll be able to speak spanish unlike me. As her teacher was talking to her in spanish, I just stood there like a deer in headlights.

I walked with my daughter over to the table with little chairs, pulled the chair out for her, and she had a seat. I looked at her as a little boy handed her some of the building blocks. Emotions ran through me. On one hand, here is my little girl, taking a small step forward. On the other hand, I will throat punch one of these little brats if they make my baby cry. Ok, maybe I wont take it that far lol.

I did feel a little better when the teacher texted me a video of Cheech having a snack and smiling. I know that the separation anxiety is going to stick with me until the day I die, I just have to make sure she doesn’t end up paying for it.

Bobby your dad is here

Back in the 80s I was a young buck in elementary school. I went to a catholic school called JFK and like most catholic schools, it sucked.

Now I’m not going to say I was a terrible student, but I wasn’t the best either. I was hit in the hand with a ruler just once by our Nun, but once was all i needed. School in the 80s were different times. Your parents couldn’t just hop on a computer and see your grades on a portal. Teachers couldn’t email or text your parent about your behaviors or being tardy. Hell, the only way they could get in touch with you or your parents was to call the home phone. Hopefully you were lucky enough to get the phone before they did.

Every night my mom would ask me if I had homework. Nope, no homework today. Really, who wants to do homework or study when you could turn on WGN and watch the Cubs with your dad? We weren’t allowed to do anything when we got home except do homework. Again, for some strange reason, I never had homework.. well, at least i didn’t bring it home. So as I’m sitting watching the Wonder Years, staring at my crush Winnie Cooper, in the back of my young mind all I could think of is the homework that wasn’t at home.

Let’s fast forward to parent teacher conferences. While my dad and mom were talking to my teachers, i was at home waiting to hear the deathly sound of the door unlocking, knowing the ass whoopin that was about to come. And come that ass whoopin sure did. Not only did I get acquainted with my dads belt, foot, hand, Nintendo (yes he got me with a Nintendo lol) but i was also blessed by his presences in school.

“Bobby your dad is here” is what i heard as I was coming out of the cafeteria. And wouldn’t you know it, there was my old man, standing in the doorway at the top of the steps. Now for you young kids, parents were allowed to be in the school to handle their kids in the 80s. We didn’t have a “safe space” like you snowflakes have now. Our “safe space” was close to a friend so when your parent wacked you, they would hit your friend by accident too.

My dad sat next to me in class. You’d think that teacher could recognize the SOS i was coding with the blink of my eyes. Nope, this is the 80s, the teachers taught and parents were parents. Anyways, it came time to turn in our homework. I could say that my dog ate it, but my dad would be there to say we don’t have a fucking dog Bob Jr. So as i frantically look through my desk ( the top lifted up to a 90 degree angle) looking for a paper I knew damn well wasn’t in there, my dads lips began to tighten, as he started to bite his lower lip.

Some of you grew up with your parents death stare, I grew up with tight lips lol. My dad turned my desk top from 90 degrees to 180 degrees lol. It was then I turned into Ralphie from A Christmas Story “oooh fuuuucck”. My dad looked at me, and said “we’ll talk when you get home”. lol The only talking was him saying “move your hands, Bob Jr move your hands” The belt hits different when your hand is involved. I wish I could say i learned my lesson that day, nope, my dad was by my side in class a few times.

Now some today would say that’s child abuse. No, that was the 80s. What i learned, or rather understood later in life is that him sitting next to me all those times and giving me those ass whoopins was because he wanted me to do better because he knew I could do better. And what’s better than tough love?

Yes, he really did hit me with a Nintendo lol