Today we attended our first PTA meeting. Being first-time parents, we really didn’t know what to expect. In my case, my only orientation to PTAs would be those meetings that I relentlessly kept pressuring my folks to attend but they just wouldn’t. They dodged every single opportunity to attend a PTA meeting as if it were bullets. I didn’t quite understand why. I figured there might be something absolutely terrifying that goes on in those PTAs otherwise my parents wouldn’t be so scared to go. What could possibly be so bad? Do they give on-the-spot quizzes? Do they do live sacrificial rituals?
But then again, I for one, am not my parents. And I am really dying to know what’s been going on in that school since my kid has been going there for the past three weeks. So off we went with our potluck contribution and chose a seat by the back while waiting for the orientation to begin.
The administrator and the teachers talked about policies and procedures and all that jazz. There were powerpoint presentations and ice breakers, and all the elements of an awkward social gathering of people who have nothing in common whatsoever, except for the fact that their kids go to the same school.
In my head I was thinking, hey…this isn’t so bad. I’m actually glad that I went. I still don’t know what the hell freaked my parents out so much because from my experience, it seemed pretty harmless. It was awkward but harmless. Plus there’s food. And food is always good.
Well, that was until it was time to elect the officers for the PTA. The teacher opens the floor for nominations and all you can hear is that eerie God-awful silence that seems to linger for the longest time you can almost hear a needle drop. It reminds me of those moments back in school when the teachers would ask for volunteers, and in a second everyone starts looking busy. Some will start rummaging through their things, some will stoop low to fix their socks or their shoes, while others squint seriously into whatever it is they’re scribbling in their notes. I can proudly say that I have mastered that behavior in all its possible forms. The objective of which is to be as invisible as possible in the eyes of your teacher, so that you won’t get called. Hence the lower your back arches, or the more distant you appear, the better.
So yes, I had that same familiar moment when at some point the teacher was looking straight at me. I knew exactly what to do. I just stared far into space…far far away from this auditorium, far far away in my own little world. I kept telling myself “Do not make eye-contact. Do not make eye-contact”. And I think I managed quite successfully, because her eyes sweeped from me to the person right beside me. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Unfortunately, I forgot to brief the person seated next to me. And that person happened to be my clueless husband.
So what did my husband do? Of all the moments in history that he had to be funny, he just had to choose that moment to tell a weird sarcastic joke. He says “Sige! kung bobotohin niyo ako, dun sa treasurer nalang ha? hehehe” (If you’re gonna vote for me, vote for me as the treasurer). I guess in a weird sick way that constitutes as a joke because we all know that the treasurer is the one who holds the funds. Now you know. My husband can have a pretty sick sense of humor sometimes.
Going back, when he uttered those words, I really wanted to smack the living daylights out of him. He obviously doesn’t know about the ‘invisible strategy” which I have very much perfected through years of practice. And so the teacher responds by saying that he was obviously a willing candidate and proceeds to write his name on the board.
My head was spinning. I was telling myself “Shit shit shit…this is bad. This is really really bad”. And before you know it, the candidates were all called on stage. He was the only guy surrounded by women of varying ages. He was all red in the face but I still don’t think the reality of the situation has quite sunk in yet to his skull. He cracked another joke, and everybody laughed. In my head I was telling him “GOOD GOD MAN! SHUT UP ALREADY!”. But he was obviously too busy being amused by the audience’s reaction.
So when it was time to cast the votes from President down to Secretary, it was the moment of truth. When the voting opened for President, the people shouted my husband’s name. And before you know it, his name was written on the board. There it was…immortalized in all it’s glory…the words “PRESIDENT”.
So that’s the story of how this morning, my husband officially became the President of the freakin’ PTA. Although I was quite moritified earlier today, now I’m just laughing inside as I recall the days’ events. Who would have thought…my husband, who used to skip school so he can play billiards with his friends. My husband who almost didn’t get to graduate highschool because he choreographed his troupe’s ROTC formation into what was controversially called “the hotdog device”, which was actually a giant dick (true story). My husband who plans to cover every inch of his body with tattoos and who once used to get involved in fights and would come home with cuts and bruises… My husband…the PTA President.
Oh the irony of it all….
Dear husband, you know how much I love you but you do know that I am soooo gonna milk this for what it’s worth 🙂 (insert evil laugh)
I am gonna have so much fun with this. I can feel it.