On Monday I got a couple emails from people at Henry’s school telling me about an important meeting with the Board of Ed where we needed to show a united front. Then I got an email from my husband saying, This sounds important. Should one of us go? And I thought, Well, it would be nice to get out of the house. So I said I would go and he could put the children to bed. Sucker!

Oh mes darlings, what a show. I have the urge to make a disclaimer at this point, to say, I really appreciate the work and energy of the other parents and how much they care about their children and I of course care about my children and overcrowding is a serious issue blur bloo blar blur blarb. Fuck it. It was crazy. There was one woman who sat in the front row rolling her eyes wildly and grimacing, as if she were signing for the hearing impaired. There was an angry mother who, in the middle of her angry, forceful speech, used the word “Squozen.” Everyone fell silent. Squozen? Did she say squozen? was the thought that spread round the room. Then she said it again. She said squozen? Is that a word? Really? Isn’t the word squeezed? Is she making a joke? Oh, and a mom stood up and said, I have seen people going the wrong way down the street in front of the school and this is going to end in a terrible, terrible accident. Also prompting stunned silence. Otherwise, throughout, shouting from the audience, applause for a comment by a woman who was counting the number of extra bedrooms going up on her street, and general bloodlust. The dad who got to speak last judged the mood of the room incorrectly when he began his comment with the prissy little phrase, “The thing is, I’m having trouble connecting the dots.” He should have stood on his chair, raised his pencil in the air, and sung something from Les Mis.