When last we left Mr. Price, the poor bastard had been intellectually assaulted by the parents of little Fucker...er Tucker on Meet n Greet Day.
Since then, he has been challenged daily for pretty much anything that could be harmful physically, emotionally, or psychologically for Tucker by his parents...in other words, his daily existence.
Now we jump forward to Halloween. Mr. Price has almost been dreading this, for it is the first "holiday" of the school year. It is after school, the day before Nevada Day. Price has already made a reservation for a bar stool at a watering hole near his home. Just as he is gathering papers to take home and grade (perhaps burn), in comes Tucker's mom. Price has had many conversations with her, and has concluded that she is a perfect combination of snowflake, raisin, and a brick wall.
"Mr. Price!"
Shit. "Yes, ma'am. How nice to see you again this week."
"I was here yesterday, too."
I had almost blocked that out, thanks for the reminder! "Of course. What can I do for you?"
"Well, I have some concerns."
"Ma'am, I cannot do anything about the cafeteria menu. If it says broccoli, Tucker will just have to deal with it."
The mom laughs. "Oh dear no. We had a long conversation about that with Tucker. He understands."
"Oh, he knows it is broccoli and not wittle twees?"
"Dear no, he just understands that the world is not as smart as he is."
"Well he certainly is on another intellectual plane. Speaking of which, the kids took that test that you tried to get canceled. I applaud your effort, but the governor had the final say."
The face crinkles, then breaks into a fake smile. "Oh really? And how did Tucker do?"
Price consults a chart. "Well, when he wasn't reaching for his handkerchief and emptying his brain cells into it, he had trouble with letter sounds and number values. Needless to say, when it came to reading passages and math computation, he flat-lined."
"What do you mean needless to say?"
"What I mean is that despite your husband's claim that Tucker will rise to the top and race to the 3rd grade by March, Tucker is operating at below a first grade level, and since he is in the 2nd grade, saying we have concerns is the century's understatement."
Tucker's mom sits down. "Mr. Price, I understand your concerns, but we have ours as well."
You should be concerned about when to start building the basement to stick that kid in when he flunks out. "Of course."
The gentle fake smile returns. "I have concerns about this Nevada Day. What is it?"
"Oh, instead of Columbus Day, we celebrate the day Nevada attained statehood."
"Hmm, I am not sure I agree with the idea."
"There's been about 8 weeks since Labor Day, so the kids, and teachers, need a little break, don't you think?"
She shakes her head. "Mr. Price, how will we ever get Tucker to grade level if these frivolous vacations keep coming up?"
"No idea. You have me there. Did you talk to the governor?"
"He won't return our calls anymore."
"Small wonder. Next concern."
A look of deep angst on a raisin. "Mr. Price, you sound as though you do not like our meetings."
"Ma'am, I do like meeting with parents to discuss academic concerns and how we can work together on the school AND home fronts. However, we talk and talk and never get anywhere because you do not want to get to the academics. You want to discuss ways to avoid helping Tucker at the very core of school."
"MR PRICE! I do NOT want to avoid ANYTHING!"
"You want to avoid any testing. Believe it or not, you actually won the battle in not getting him tested for special ed against our best advice. You are against weekly reading and math assessments. You are against grades in general. You are against the idea of competition. And now you are against a holiday that the kids and teachers look forward to."
Tucker's mom looks shocked and appalled, but then a surprising smile comes across her face. "Mr. Price, do you like being a teacher?"
"Of course." Before you raised my alcohol tolerance, that is.
"It seems that you might be happier in another profession, seeing that you cannot meet Tucker's needs."
Ooh, I can almost see what's coming. "Why, whatever do you mean?"
Tucker's mom looks at the closed door. "You really shouldn't close the door during a conference."
"You closed it when you entered."
"You can't prove that. Imagine what the administration would think if I accused you of...harassment?"
Price smiles back. "I think they'd find that quite unbelievable, ma'am." Many of them having met you, they'd find it an ice pond in hell of a chance.
"All I have to do is accuse."
"And all I have to do is play the tape of us talking today."
The smile gone once again. "You're...taping this?"
"Well, not TAPING per se, I'm not that ancient, but recording. In fact, since September I have been recording every single conference between you and me."
"W-w-w-w-why?"
"Insurance and transparency. Our talks are documented and I think that anyone will find that I have tried to cooperate with you on every issue. Now, can we get back to the topic of Tucker?"
Mr. Price has never seen anyone look so defeated, so he smiles and offers, "I know you want the best for him. We can't control the holidays, so let's focus on what we can change."
She looks doubtful, but shrugs and smiles. "All right, let's discuss Halloween."
"Excellent."
"What?"
"An excellent topic, I mean. Will Tucker dress up?"
"Oh dear YES!"
That's a fucking switch! "Oh good. What will he be?"
"Why himself, of course! He needs not disguise himself, he is so wonderful as he is."
Knew that was too good to be true. "Of course he is."
"Will there be a party?"
"We like to call them celebrations, but yes. Just in the afternoon. We'll watch something fun and educational while the kids eat from fruit and vegetable trays. I don't need diabetic comas, so no sweets."
Tucker's mom cracks a true smile. A friendly smile. Price is frightened. "Mr. Price, that is so wonderful!"
Price feels a small chill coming from below. Hell HAS frozen over! "Wow, I am glad we finally agree on something."
"Oh YES! OK, one last question and I will let you go."
The chill is full blown and Price feels the need for thick boots. "Go ahead."
"How can we help Tucker at home?"
To be continued...
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